


Harmony Lake...

by Lymers



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Rock Stars, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:42:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 90,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25202641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lymers/pseuds/Lymers
Summary: Nicole thinks her music career is over. Could Waverly help her see she has a future?
Relationships: Nicole Haught/Shae Pressman, Waverly Earp & Willa Earp, Waverly Earp & Wynonna Earp, Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 288
Kudos: 410





	1. the House

Nicole unlocked the door to the house. She hadn’t set foot inside for over five years, dropping her bag on the floor, taking time to get the feel of a place holding so many memories. Her family bought the Cape Cod style property when she was a child, a getaway from the hustle and bustle of Manhatten, just over a two hour drive to a hideaway her mother fell in love with while perusing house details one rainy weekend. 

On the north shore of Lake Harmony, boasting four bedrooms, three bathrooms, a decked area to sit out each evening and a good-sized boathouse. That kept her father happy for a while, able to take their small boat out, fishing for bass with friends, drinking beer, taking Nicole on adventures, a chance for father and daughter to bond. 

Her aunt bought a house on the south side, agreeing it was the perfect location. Nicole would spend summers with her cousins biking, hiking, swimming in the lake, sad whenever she had to return to New York. Her father gradually stopped coming with them, preferring the frenzy and fierceness of the city. When her mother found out he was having an affair, they spent even more time at the house, content with a more relaxed way of life. She transferred to a school in Scranton, never quite fitting in, throwing herself into music, joining a band at fifteen, her voice and guitar playing quickly replacing the lead singer. 

At eighteen, she hit the big time. A YouTube video went viral with over four million views, an appearance on The Ellen Show securing the band a major record deal, touring the world, performing at larger and larger venues, even making it to Glastonbury, England. She loved the life of a rock star, girls screaming as she came onstage, grown women waving concert programmes for her signature, hundreds and hundreds of photos with adoring fans. 

At twenty four, she was washed up, emotionally exhausted, unable to get back on stage. Her doctor prescribed anti-depressants and rest, her therapist suggested a change of scenery, a break from the lifestyle which led to her breakdown. Her mother was now living in Scranton, married again, keeping the lake house for holidays. She was happy for Nicole to stay there for as long as she needed, knowing she was near enough should her daughter want her to visit, far enough away to give her space. She saw how international fame changed her daughter from a sensitive soul to an erratic extrovert, pretending to be the character the world wanted her to be, all smiles, all waves, all for nothing ultimately as it took its toll on her soul. 

Nicole knew she had sold out to a lie, but at eighteen it’s kind of fun to have so much attention, when she had been starved of it through high school. She was lucky to have found the band members when she did, crushing on the only other girl in the band, a friendship that grew into a romance, the pair clinging to each other as they toured the world. Shae’s death was the trigger for her problems, the one person who kept her sane, kept her going now gone too soon. She kept her photos on her phone, a reminder she was still with her, still giving her a wink before the start of every concert. She still turned to where Shae would have stood, instinctively, always hoping she would find her there, the girl replacing her smiling back knowing she could never be Shae. 

And then, the drinking started. She had never been a big drinker, a few beers after a show. Shae kept her sober, telling her she would get fat if she had too much, patting her bare stomach as they lay in bed. Sure, they were offered drugs to keep them going, Shae the first to decide they weren’t for her, Nicole following suit, not wanting to rely on chemical highs when she had a natural high lying beside her each night. 

The drinking dulled the pain, except it didn’t. Not wanting to return to an empty bed, she would spend hours chasing her demons away through the demon drink. Whiskey became her go to poison, unhappily getting through a bottle a night before it all came crashing down. A sell-out concert in Los Angeles, a packed venue waiting to hear Nicole sing, except she was too drunk even to stand by the time the concert was about to start. Her manager, the other band members, even her mother who had flown in to be with her tried in vain to sober her up. 

The band went on without her, Shae’s replacement taking over as lead singer, not doing a bad job. Nicole was mortified when she realised she had let everyone down, including Shae, hearing Shae's voice in her head telling her to get help, to get out before she killed herself. She took Shae’s advice from the beyond the grave, checking herself into a clinic, spending weeks finally going through the process of grieving the loss of a loved one. She hadn’t realised until it was pointed out how her drinking, her sabotaging of her career was a cry for help. 

A pile of letters and pamphlets lay on the doormat. She scooped them up, carrying them to the kitchen, switching on the light. Her mother had left her enough provisions to last a few days. She would need to go to the store to stock up. For now, she was content simply to be able to close a door on one life, rest, recuperate, reconsider her life choices. Life choices, at twenty four. Still young enough to have her whole life ahead, too old, too worn out to be a rock star. The band were adamant she would return, keeping her place open. Nicole knew otherwise. That life was over.

The question now facing her was what to do with the rest of her life. She didn’t know, didn’t want to think about her life going forward without Shae. Her time at the clinic had helped her say goodbye, mostly to booze which she vowed never to touch again. Saying goodbye to Shae would take longer, much longer, she knew that. Still, small steps was what she was told. Every day was a new day, a new start.

Her phone buzzed. A text from her mother asking if she had arrived safely. She sent a text back to say she was in the house, thanking her for the provisions, saying she would drop by in a day or so. Her mother sent a text back suggesting she call her aunt to let her know she was in the house in case she worried seeing the lights on. 

“Hi Nancy,” Nicole said, making herself a coffee. “It’s Nicole.”

“Nicole! I saw the lights on. Are you there?”

“I’m here. How’s uncle?”

“Sore back. Keep telling him to see a doctor. He’s a stubborn old mule, says fishing is the cure for creaking joints.”

Nicole laughed. “Probably is. I’ll come over tomorrow, catch up. How’s Greg and Laura?”

“Greg’s doing fine. Laura’s pregnant. Did you know?”

“Oh my God, no. Congratulations. When’s the baby due?”

“Some time yet. Had the first scan on Tuesday. Can’t believe I’ll be a grandmother. At my young age. Your uncle says he’ll take the baby fishing as soon as it pops out. I said, over my dead body.”

There was silence, Nicole trying not to think about Shae, trying to think of what to say. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh Nicole, I’m so sorry to hear what happened to Shae. Dreadful, just dreadful. And, so young. Such a lovely person, to think…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Nicole, before you go. Do you remember the family next door to my house? The three girls.”

“I think so. Didn’t Greg date one of them?”

“That’s right. Willa. Listen, you can say no, but their father wondered if you’d give their youngest some guitar lessons. She’s quite good already from what I can hear from my house. It would mean a lot to the young girl.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nicole replied, not wanting to commit to anything. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“Thank you. I wouldn’t ask, only I think she’s lonely. She’s quite shy. Reminds me of you a little.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Her aunt could be rather persuasive when she wanted to be. Nicole guessed she was doing this as a way to keep her occupied, worried she might be bored, alone in a house on her own without anything to do. She vaguely remembered the youngest girl, too young to tag along with her sisters when Nicole would go over to hang out with her two cousins. She couldn’t remember her name, knew it began with a W, knew Wynonna best given their similar age, probably why she had fewer memories of the youngest one. 

Bags unloaded from the car, a movie selected, she bedded down for the evening, sending several texts to friends, one to her manager, a final text to her therapist. At ten she turned in, three books on the bedside table she’d bought at the airport to kill time, no intention of reading any. 

Ten thirty she was up pacing the house, edgy, not wanting to take the sleeping pills she’d been prescribed, knowing if she didn’t she would not get to sleep. Eleven o’clock she was on the deck, guitar out, amp set at its lowest volume, strumming a song she and Shae had been working on in the weeks leading up to her death. Midnight, she still couldn’t sleep, a half bottle of whiskey staring at her from the bar. One fifteen she took two pills, lying down, fighting sleep for as long as she could.

She woke shortly after nine to banging on her front door, wondering who the hell it was. Her uncle stood beaming as she opened the door, her hair a mess, wearing little more than a tee shirt. Two fishing rods in his hand, he hugged his niece, waiting to be invited in. “Figured you might need a partner on the lake,” he said, resting the rods against the outside of the house, following her to the kitchen. “Nancy says you need cheering up. Can’t get any happier than out there with a couple of cold beers.”

Nicole remembered all the times she’d been fishing with her uncle. “Ten dollars I catch the biggest fish,” she replied, a bet her uncle always let her win.

“Twenty dollars and the loser buys the beers.”

“I’m dry,” she said, placing a coffee pod in the machine, letting it work its magic.

“All the more for me.”

“If you win. Nancy said the girl next to you wants guitar lessons.”

“Waverly. Didn’t know she played. Wynonna plays the drums. Badly. I’ve had to go knock a few times and our houses aren’t that close.”

“God, that’s right. Waverly. I’d forgotten. She must be a teenager now. How’s Wynonna doing?”

“Haven’t seen her in a while. Think she went travelling. Greece. Definitely Europe. Nancy would know more than me. Ward's still on the bottle. Shame what drink can do to a man.”

Nicole knew exactly what drink could do to a man, or a woman. She shuddered remembering how drunk she was the night of her last concert, throwing up over her manager, paramedics pumping her stomach, her mother sitting beside her in hospital crying. She cried too when she realised what she was doing with her life. Her one precious life.

Coffees consumed, the pair headed out, her uncle’s boat moored on the jetty a short walk from the house. It was how they used to visit each other, across the lake rather than on the road, unless her cousins wanted to go mountain biking. Her uncle maintained her mother’s boat in their absence, and did a bit of gardening to keep out of Nancy’s way, although there was a gardener who came in once a week to tend to the place. Her aunt would occasionally drop by to collect any post and check the house over. Greg had stayed there for a few months before jetting off to Hong Kong with his job, Nicole meeting up with him when she played there, inviting him backstage, introducing the band members.

Four fishes later, several hours on the lake, Nicole followed her uncle into his house, declining a cool beer even though she was desperate for one. Her aunt returned from a shopping trip, shouting at Nicole’s uncle to take his feet off the couch, hugging Nicole, inviting her to lunch. There was a knock on the door, Nicole’s uncle looking at it, refusing to budge, earning another reprimand. A girl entered, long brown hair, dressed in shorts and a figure-hugging tee shirt, Nicole’s eyes scanning her body briefly as she stood by the breakfast counter, a large envelope in her hand.

“This came to us by mistake,” she said, looking over at Nicole, recognising her instantly, blushing.

“That mail man," Nancy replied. "I swear he does it on purpose. Why he’s even employed. Nicole this is Waverly, the one who wants to have lessons. Ward’s youngest.”

“Hi, you play guitar,” Nicole said.

Waverly nodded, still blushing. “I’m not very good. I’ve only been playing a year. I have all your songs on my phone.”

“So do I,” Nicole replied, earning a nervous giggle from Waverly. “So, you want lessons?”

Waverly nodded again, her cheeks now crimson, looking up briefly, clearly fangirling her music idol.

“I’m free most days. Afternoons are best. Unless you’re at school.”

“Holidays.”

“Right. Of course. Summer. Cool. No charge. If you’re any good I’ll introduce you to my manager.”

Waverly’s eyes widened, her mouth opening slightly in awe, knowing she was going to be taught by none other than Nicole Haught. She couldn’t wait to tell her friends, Nicole Haught, as in The Nicole Haught would be teaching her how to play. She squealed as soon as she left the house, punching the air, quietly thanking the Universe she had such a famous new neighbour. 

Nicole heard her practising as she left her uncle’s house, smiling to herself, remembering what it was like to be Waverly’s age, in love with life, wanting everything she had walked away from. _I don’t want to encourage her,_ she thought, as her uncle made his way across the lake, _but it would be fun helping someone who’s keen. She’s filled out since I last saw her. Should have asked what Wynonna was up to. Would be fun jamming with her. Shae, if you’re listening, love you, honey._

She spent the evening unpacking her bags, a meal for one in front of the TV, another film she didn’t particularly want to watch, another restless night. Back on the deck, strumming her music, she hoped tomorrow would bring her closer to peace.


	2. the Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole's fame follows her everywhere...
> 
> Music mood: [Freya Ridings: Lost Without You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-RT3uFugS0k)

A second mug of coffee in her hand, Nicole watched from the decking as families arrived for a day on the lake. She thought she might check out the beach at Boulder Lake where a friend worked, after that she had no idea what to do with the rest of the day, or the rest of her life. _Got to get a routine,_ she thought, _need to keep my mind active. Could go to Scranton. Could stay here. Could teach Waverly._

She scrolled through recent calls, ringing her aunt. “Hi, you coming over later?” her aunt asked. “I’ve made your favourite.”

“Great. Hotdogs,” Nicole guessed. “Sure. You have a number for Waverly?”

“No. I have Ward’s if that helps. I can go knock, get it for you. It’s not hotdogs. It’s my chicken surprise recipe.”

“Right. Thanks,” Nicole replied, disappointed it wasn’t hotdogs, not aware chicken surprise was her favourite. “If you could. Tell her I’m around for a lesson.”

Her phone rang twenty minutes later. “Hi, it’s Waverly,” the young voice said. 

“Forgot to get your number yesterday. You wanna come over? Got some free time, thought we’d get going.”

She could hear the excitement in Waverly’s voice as she accepted the invite, wondering if this was such a good idea. It had been a few months since girls had hung on her every word, staring at her like she was some sort of a god. She missed the buzz, missed the bullshit that came with stardom, missed not having Shae to share it with. She had just enough time to visit the beach, say hi to Robin, get some snacks for later. 

Window down, Oakley’s on, arm resting on the door, it felt good to be back, except it didn’t. Shae visited the house only once before they were famous, Nicole promising to spend time with her there when they next had a long break. It never came. Their popularity meant they were either on the road, or in the studio working on the next release. 

There wasn’t even enough free time to get home for Christmas, spending it in hotel rooms with the other band members, swapping silly gifts, keeping each other amused, ringing home to wish loved ones a happy holiday. It got to her the most, missing her mother, knowing what they were doing wouldn’t last forever. Shae kept telling her to enjoy the moment, seize the day, suck out everything from it before it vanishes. “You’ll miss this when it’s gone,” she would say. “You’ll miss it all.”

She didn’t miss it all. She missed Shae. She missed her laugh and the way she could get her to forget her own name when she gave her that ‘come to bed’ look. She missed her shouting to pick up her clothes from the floor, telling her to be tidier, not be a rock star. She missed her eyes, her cute nose, the crease between her breasts, the curve of her back. She missed being touched by gentle hands and gentle lips. She’d only ever kissed Shae, well and a few hundred fans on their cheeks, remembering how Shae would laugh when she said she’d been unfaithful with lots of girls. There was little reason to be unfaithful when it came to Shae. Why would she? She had struck it lucky with Shae, the love of her life with her on the most surreal journey neither could quite believe.

Robin was setting out chairs when she pulled up. “Girl, you looking hot,” he said, as he pulled her into a hug. “You feeling hot too. You’ve been working out, I can tell.”

“I wish,” she replied. “Need to get into a gym soon. You up for a little lifting?”

“Why not. Anything for my favourite girl. You could come with me and Jeremy. He’s more into it, thinks having a six pack will keep me interested.”

“And, who’s this Jeremy? You’ve not mentioned him before.”

“I have. I sent you a text remember. Mind you, your text back didn’t make much sense.”

“Ah, might have been when I was drinking. There’s a lot I can’t remember about that phase. If it was rude, I apologise. I wasn’t myself.”

“It was hilarious. Jeremy’s dying to meet you. He’s got all your songs. Thinks he can sing. You might have to lie and tell him he’s great. Or, at least teach him how to sing in tune.”

An attractive woman approached, her expression one Nicole was all too familiar with. She smiled, taking the piece of paper and pen from her, autographing it, handing it back. “Could I…would you let me take a photo with you,” she asked, handing the phone to Robin who rolled his eyes. “I have all your songs.”

Obligatory photo session over, she watched as the woman returned to her boyfriend at the bar, showing him the photo. He glanced over, eyeing her, a look that said he too was a fan. He smiled, puffing out his chest in the vain attempt to look bigger, little realising his girlfriend stood more of a chance with her than he did. She smiled back, pulling her sunglasses over her eyes, heading outside to sit on one of the loungers. She didn’t mind being approached, except she did. She no longer felt like a rock star. After Los Angeles she felt like a traitor, someone who pretended to be famous, but really was nobody, fooling no one.

Robin came and joined her on the next sun lounger. “I keep forgetting you’re famous. She’s still checking you out. I reckon you’ll have her number before you leave.”

“Famous once. I messed up. Can’t go back, not after LA.”

“I heard. I thought the band still wanted you. That new girl is good, but she’s not you.”

“It’s not the same without Shae. It’s hollow. I think I only kept going because Shae wanted to keep going. If I’d been there that night. God, it’s still as raw. Every single fucking day, it doesn’t get any easier.”

Robin put his hand on her thigh. “Don’t beat yourself up. Shae wouldn’t want that. She’d be the first to tell you to get on with your life. We all miss her, but that’s not going to bring her back.”

The lump in her throat and the ache in her chest told her he’d triggered her emotions. Right about now she would be hitting the bar, ordering a double whiskey to stop the pain from becoming too much. It resolved little, drunk, sober, she couldn’t fill the Shae-sized hole in her heart. 

“So, what are your plans, now you’re here?” Robin asked, to break the silence.

“Not much. Not drink. Not throw myself in the lake. I’m supposed to be giving guitar lessons to my aunt’s neighbour. Waverly.”

Robin rolled his eyes. “AKA, your biggest fan.”

“Great. She’s coming over later. I guess I’ll have to put her straight. Won’t work if she’s drooling over her guitar.”

“She’s working at the café I think. Ward got her the job.”

“Terra’s? God, remember when we were chucked out for throwing ice cubes. I thought it was the worst day of my life. Was certain I would be grounded for that. Mom laughed. Said I should live a little.”

“Think you lived a lot, by the sounds of it. How many countries did you visit?”

“Way, way too many. Actually, I have no idea. Did some more than once. England was interesting. And, Spain. Got a place there. Nothing special.”

“And, you say you’re not a rock star. What happened to your place in LA?”

“Still have it. Tax purposes. Stayed there a total of two nights. Can’t even remember what it looks like, or where it is exactly.”

“Yeah, I have that problem too. Never know where all my properties are.”

Nicole smiled, realising the absurdity of her life. “It’s all bull. None of it’s real. So many wannabes wanting to hang out, none of them bothering to know the real person behind the mask.”

“That’s why you have me in your life. I remember the spotty kid with braces, whose legs were too long for her bike. Who would bring her guitar to the camp fire and sing to us.”

“I’d better go. Told Waverly I’d be home around one. Drop by later when you’re free. Bring Jeremy if he’s around. I could do with the company.”

Nicole could see the woman watching her as she walked through the bar, heading to the exit. She was nearly at her car when she felt a light touch on her arm, turning round, the woman behind her. “I…I hope you don’t mind me asking but when’s your next song coming out?”

Nicole shrugged. “I’ve left the band.”

The woman gasped. “You’re going solo? Oh, my God. I knew it. You’re my favourite singer of all time.”

“Thanks. Listen, gotta go. Have a guitar lesson to give someone.”

The woman’s mouth fell open. “You give lessons. Can I give you my number? I could really use some lessons from you.”

Nicole entered her number in her phone, opening the car door, knowing she would delete the number once back at the house. “Can I have your number?” the woman asked, still standing by the car.

Nicole shook her head. “Not allowed to give it out, for security. Great meeting you. Keep practising.”

“What? Right, yes,” the woman replied, pretending to strum a guitar, Nicole recognising the woman had never played one in her life. 

Waverly was waiting by the front door as she pulled up. _Damn,_ she thought, _can everyone get a grip on themselves? This is going to suck being here if this keeps happening._

“You’re early,” she said, opening the door, letting Waverly enter first. “I thought we said one.”

“Dad dropped me off. I can wait if you like. I’ve the afternoon off.”

“Terra’s,” Nicole replied, watching how Waverly’s mouth fell open at her knowing. “Robin told me.”

“Oh, right.”

Waverly’s guitar had seen better days, in need of a service, a cheap model. Nicole could tell it was slightly out of tune as she plucked a few notes on it, Waverly hanging on every movement, watching Nicole’s hands play her guitar. A dream come true, sitting in her music idol’s home listening to her play, she could feel the effects it was having on her body, pulling her legs together, sitting on her hands, hoping her tee shirt didn’t reveal how much she was enjoying being alone with The Nicole Haught.

Guitar tuned, handing it back, Nicole fumbled in a bag on the floor for a spare lead to plug Waverly’s guitar into an amp. Picking up her cobra blue Fender Stratocaster from its stand, she began strumming a few chords, Waverly recognising it immediately. “That’s…that’s Kill Me With Your Eyes. That’s my favourite song. And, that’s the guitar you used in the video.”

Nicole stopped playing. “You seem to know a lot about me. I’m going to say something here, and don’t take this the wrong way. But, this isn’t going to work if you keep fangirling me. I’m really not that great when you get to know me.”

Waverly’s face fell at Nicole’s words, unable to look her in the eye. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

“Hey, it’s okay. I don’t mind it. I’m used to it. I just want you to get the most out of this. You ready to hit the road?”

“You want me to go?” Waverly asked, shocked at the lesson being over so soon.

Nicole laughed. “No, it’s what we would say to start a show. We’d shout it at the crowd. Best feeling ever when everyone shouts yes back.”

Waverly wasn’t too bad for someone who had picked up a guitar less than a year ago. It had been because of Nicole, seeing a tribute to her in the high school they both attended in Scranton. The school was particularly proud of its past pupil, an entire wall dedicated to the band, signed photos of each member, Nicole’s face smiling at her every time she passed. She dreamt of meeting her, hanging out, jamming with her. And, here she was, doing just that and it was the most incredible thing she’d ever done in her life.

An A student, reserved, shy, a small circle of friends, she took up the guitar after reading an article about Nicole online, explaining how music gave her a purpose, a set of friends and international fame. It was the line about music being at the core of her life, with or without fame, that impressed Waverly. She wanted that, wanted something other than her studies to make her feel alive, make her feel life was worth living. Hers was not a bad life, a nice house, plenty to do round the lake, but with her sisters gone, most of her friends in Scranton, she had nothing to keep her in the small community that lived by Lake Harmony all year round. 

Her escape route would be via Penn University to study law, hoping to break free of her father’s hold on her life. As the youngest, with her mother gone, Ward assumed she would take care of him, keep the house running. As much as she loved her father, she hated his drinking, his bad moods, his mean side, too afraid to fight back when his eyes darkened, the demon drink making him say cruel things about her, things no loving father should ever say to a daughter. She was used to it, used to being called lazy, ugly, too fat for anyone to want to date.

Wynonna would fight back when she was at home, defending Waverly against her father’s wicked tongue. When she up and left, she knew she was abandoning Waverly, desperately wanting to take her baby sister with her, knowing she couldn’t. She vowed to be gone for a few months. Two years later, she was still off enjoying a life beyond the small-minded existence from which she’d fled. 

Nicole began playing another song, Waverly’s second favourite, Waverly keeping quiet. “Do you want me to teach you this one?” Nicole asked, a little way in. “It’s great for beginners.”

Waverly nodded, practising the first few chords, gradually getting the tune. Two hours later, several songs practised, she sat in Nicole’s car on her way back to her own house, blissfully content. She noticed a couple walking their dog do a double take as Nicole drove past, shouting they loved her, waving. 

“Guess I’m famous,” Nicole said, as she waved out the window. “Nicole Haught, rock star. Living the dream.”

“You don’t seem that happy,” Waverly observed, glancing over. 

“It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. It looks fantastic from the outside, but when you’re in the middle of it, it’s all messed up. It messed me up big time. Drank myself crazy.”

“I know what drink can do,” Waverly whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Fender Stratocaster (Cobra Blue)](https://www.andertons.co.uk/fender-american-ultra-strat-hss-rosewood-cobra-blue)


	3. the Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Waverly have their own hurt to deal with...
> 
> Music mood: [Richard Ashcroft: Bittersweet Symphony](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_8dVRByLvnQ)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a little more angst than I'd intended this early on. But, hopefully gets it out of the way...
> 
> .

The chicken surprise turned out to be better than expected. Nicole sat with her uncle by the edge of the lake after sharing the meal with her relatives, watching their small piece of the world drift by, her uncle opening his third beer of the evening. “You got any plans?” he asked, his eyes following the rhythmic motion of the water, his feet resting on an upturned crate. “Could do with some help keeping the boats going.”

“How many you have now?” 

“Five. Real busy this time of year with all the folks wanting to be out there. I can give you a wage.”

Money was not an issue. Her share of the band’s earnings was sufficient to comfortably keep her going for the foreseeable future, the chance to have something to do during the day the more welcome part of his offer. “I thought Jake looked after the boats?” she replied.

“He could do with someone being there for him.”

“You mean for the boats,” she qualified, knowing Jake of old.

Her uncle chuckled, remembering what Jake was like around Nicole, a deer caught in headlights. “Yep, the boats, definitely the boats. I’m not as young as I pretend to be and my back’s not as young as it wants to be.”

Nicole took a slow drive back to the house, window down, enjoying the cool breeze on her face, the lack of urgency that came with living by the lake. Harmony had its own rhythm, running on a slower clock than anywhere she had been lucky enough to visit while touring. Or, maybe the clock on tour ran faster because they were always on the go, always chasing the next big hit, next packed venue, next TV appearance, next photo shoot, next interview, next party. The next drop of fame.

Strumming her guitar outside gone eleven, the heat of the day removed, the soft lapping of water against the shoreline, the bobbing of boats tied to the narrow wooden jetty nearby, it felt good to be there, except it didn’t. Allowing herself to feel good about anything when her lover lay sleeping, the longest sleep, hurt more than she could express. It was something the clinic discussed during her stay, how to give herself permission to let her life go on when Shae’s life would not. Guilt. The curse of the living. _Why should she get to enjoy all this,_ she thought, _when Shae would never get the chance?_

What did it matter there were stages of grief? Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, meaning. However you wrapped grief, labelled it, made friends with it. However you explained it, or understood it, or worked with it, it would never, never, never bring back what she wanted in her life. She had more than enough money to buy any goddamn happiness she wanted. Except, no amount of money would ever bring back the one happiness she wanted, the one person who meant more than any house, or boat, or car. The material utterly immaterial when weighed against love.

The clinic said she would need to find her own peace with what happened that day, the day her life changed forever. Find peace. How? Where? How does a person find peace when they’re in pieces? The clinic said she would need to find acceptance. She was so far away from acceptance it could have been in a different galaxy for all she cared. Too soon to accept what happened, or contemplate a future where she continued on alone, where another might take Shae’s place.

Nicole spent the following day doing nothing, literally nothing, unable to decide whether to go visit her mother in Scranton, check out her uncle’s boatyard, eat the entire tub of ice cream her mother had left. The ice cream finished, she managed to change out of her nightwear before noon, forcing herself to send emails to her manager, her accountant and several texts to the band.

Dylan replied almost immediately, letting her know they would be on stage in a few hours in Berlin. Another full venue, asking if she had made up her mind about coming back. She remembered when they first played Berlin, one of their earliest performances, shaking before going on stage, Shae hugging her, telling her she would be fantastic. She was, the shouts from the crowd wanting more meant they carried on playing for another hour.

Waverly rocked up shortly after five, apologising for her shift overrunning, two pieces of apple pie in her backpack which she was wearing like a baby on her front so her guitar could be slung over her back. She’d sent a text before setting off, checking it was still okay for her to come over, praying it would. She had been looking forward to the lesson all day, practising late into the night to make sure she had the chords Nicole had taught her perfected. Nicole knew how busy the cafe could get, telling her to come over, glad to have some company after a day of self-imposed isolation.

Waverly cycled up the drive, dropping the bike on the ground, waiting for Nicole to answer the door.

“You look like a Sherpa,” Nicole said, seeing Waverly’s carrying arrangement. “I used to wear my backpack like that.”

Waverly lowered her eyes, her hands comforting her bag as a mother would a baby, hoping Nicole was paying her a compliment. “I’ve brought dessert.”

“Perfect. Come in. I should have got more ice cream in. Ate the one tub I had for breakfast.”

Waverly was impressed. Pretty much anything Nicole did or said was impressive. Eating ice cream for breakfast definitely up there towards the top of the list. Very rock and roll. Pulling out her guitar, plugging it in to the amp, she began practising the chords Nicole showed her, the high E string snapping in the process. She looked at Nicole, embarrassed, knowing she didn’t have spare strings in her bag.

“You can use one of my guitars,” Nicole offered, taking Waverly’s from her. “I can fix this later if you’re okay leaving it here. So, which guitar takes your fancy?”

Waverly pointed to the purple Ibanez, knowing precisely which videos it had appeared. Holding it in her hands she thought she had died and gone to heaven, too nervous to play it, desperate to get a photo to show her friends. “It’s great,” was all she could say.

“Might need to play it,” Nicole suggested. “Okay, tell me which song I used it for.”

“Dark Side,” Waverly said, without hesitation. “And, briefly on Feeling the Rain. Although, you changed guitars to your white Ibanez half way through.”

Nicole laughed. “You really know me. Let you in on a secret, had to use the white one as we were shooting over two days and I left the purple one behind. Shae was so pissed at me.”

“I’m sorry,” Waverly said, wanting to ask about Shae, not sure how. “I read about the accident.”

“Let’s hit the road,” Nicole replied, wishing she had another phrase to use.

Waverly shifted in her seat, her fingers poised nervously over the strings, waiting for Nicole to show her what to play. Nicole simply sat motionless, her own fingers hesitating, lost somewhere, a sadness in her eyes too uncomfortable for Waverly to remain watching. “I can come back another day, if you like.”

“It’s fine. Let’s run through Dark Side, seeing you have the right guitar for it.”

An hour into their lesson, Waverly’s fingers were becoming sore, not wanting to stop. Nicole was in the zone, her head nodding to the beat of the next song, failing to realise Waverly was struggling. She looked up, a smile on her face, the happiest Waverly had seen her that evening. “Love this one, took ages to get it to fit the lyrics. You okay?”

“Can we stop?” Waverly said, her fingers throbbing.

“Sure. I get caught up in the music. Shae…”

“Do you want the apple pie?”

Nicole nodded, putting her guitar down, stretching her arms towards the ceiling, arching her back. Waverly caught a glimpse of the outline of her body through her figure-hugging tee shirt, quickly moving her eyes away from that part of Nicole’s anatomy for fear of being spotted. It was never officially announced Nicole and Shae were a couple, but fans had guessed from photos taken at parties and informal shots captured by those who spotted them out. There was one with Nicole’s arm slung over Shae’s shoulder, her head down, her height and distinctive hair making her recognisable without seeing her face. Shae was laughing, holding Nicole’s hand by her left shoulder, clearly comfortable together. 

It was another reason why Waverly fell in love with their music, knowing the lead singer was into girls, even if she didn’t shout it from the rooftops. She was dying to know why, another question she was not ready to ask having only met Nicole. It didn’t really matter, except it did. Trying to find her way in the world, the right path for her, there was no one Waverly could talk to about her feelings, what she liked, what she had come to realise she didn’t like. With Wynonna travelling, with Willa no longer in contact, she tried to confide in one friend, only to bail when her friend gave her a strange look, deciding it best if kept to herself. 

They sat eating apple pie on the deck listening to the lake. Neither spoke, each in their own worlds. Nicole put her plate down, resting her hands behind her head, Waverly licking her finger, picking a few crumbs left on her plate. “You best be going,” Nicole said, after several minutes staring at the water. “You can borrow the Ibanez till I fix yours.”

“No, it’s fine. I’ll play it when I’m here.”

“I trust you. Won’t offer again.”

“Are you sure?”

“Unless you want the Fender. Take whichever you want. I’ve got plenty.”

“The Ibanez is great. Thank you. Would it…could I…”

“Say it. What’s on your mind?”

Waverly’s cheeks flushed. “Would it be okay to get a photo of me playing it?”

Nicole shook her head. “Nope. Not allowed for insurance purposes.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

“I’m pulling your leg. Of course it’s okay. I can take one before you leave.”

“I should be used to being teased. You know Wynonna.”

“How is she? Still getting into trouble I imagine.”

“She’s working in Spain. Marbella. Keeps asking if I’ll visit. She sent me some money and I’m saving up the rest for a trip in December. Need to get a passport too.”

“I have a place there. Haven’t been for a few years. Must check it out.”

Waverly wasn’t sure if Nicole was inviting herself along on her European holiday, or merely bragging about her property. She imagined this was how rock stars talked to each other, showing each other photos of their properties around the world, what cars they had. What she would give to see inside Nicole’s Spanish property. As she cycled home, Nicole’s guitar on her back, she thought her life couldn’t get any better. 

Opening the door to her house, she could hear the TV blaring in the living room, her father adding to the cacophony of sounds, snoring loudly in his favourite chair, too drunk to do anything else. She let him be, knowing if she touched the remote he would wake up, shout at her, call her names, be mean for no other reason than he could, taking his own pain out on her. She knew it was the drink talking, that he would have forgotten about it by the time he sobered up. Except, it hurt, his sharp words piercing her, each creating a tiny wound invisible unless you looked into Waverly’s eyes and saw the tiny scars each left behind.

She opened her guitar case, holding Nicole’s Ibanez, still not quite believing it was in her hands. She strummed a few chords quietly, singing the words to the Dark Side, pausing to get her fingers in the right position. Here she was playing Nicole’s guitar, singing Nicole’s song, having eaten apple pie with her idol. To say she was aroused would be an understatement, her fingers moving over the strings causing her body to come alive, its weight on her legs, its pressure against her stomach, its neck sexy to the touch. She knew she would be dreaming about this all night, hoping she would be able to look Nicole in the eye at their next lesson.

Nicole flicked through her phone, searching for photos of the house in Marbella, stopping every so often to look at the photos she kept of Shae. Tears fell as Shae’s smiling face appeared, over, and over, and over, each photo harder to look at. She eventually found the ones for Spain, Shae topless on a sun lounger, naked in the pool, the one with bed hair, her hand raised trying to stop Nicole taking the photo. 

She remembered Shae demanding the phone from her to delete it, deciding not to when she viewed it, taking one of Nicole instead. And another with Nicole’s top off, and another completely naked. And, another, and another, Nicole cringing at the face she was pulling in the last photo, remembering what Shae’s hand was doing to her while attempting to photograph their love making.

The clinic suggested she delete as many photos as she was able, Nicole refusing to delete any, the thought of losing even one sending her into a blind panic. Even if she deleted her own there were hundreds of photos out there on social media she could easily view, although not as explicit as the ones on her phone. 

One of the many problems with being famous. Every twist and turn in public recorded, photographed, scrutinised by someone, sometimes without her knowledge, sometimes without her agreement. That was why her private collection of photos was so precious. The photos were more than a reminder of Shae’s face and body. They were moments shared without the rest of the world looking over their shoulder, making a judgment, offering an opinion. 

Waverly lay in bed, studying the photo of her playing Nicole’s guitar. Nicole insisted they take another, using her long arm to hold the phone out to capture them both, Nicole’s head resting against Waverly’s, the pair smiling. Waverly’s hand moved under the covers, slipping inside her shorts, a slow rhythm at first, gradually building until the release came, dropping the phone on the bed afterwards. She would definitely not be able to look Nicole in the eyes after that. She didn’t mind, except she did, wondering what it would be like to have her idol use her fingers to play her. 

The TV went silent, her father’s heavy footsteps heading to his room, the door slamming. Turning on her side, she placed her phone on the pillow, Nicole’s face smiling at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Purple Ibanez](https://www.ibanez.com/eu/products/detail/rg60als_1p_01.html)
> 
> [White Ibanez](https://www.ibanez.com/eu/products/detail/jbm10fx_1p_01.html)
> 
> I'm using Nita Strauss as a kind of model for Nicole's character: [Rock chic plays guitar](https://www.ibanez.com/eu/artists/detail/568.html)
> 
> Here's Nita playing: [Girl can play..](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fc9Ojq04P6s)


	4. the Hunger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole needs something to do with her hands...
> 
> Music mood: [Stereophonics: Best of You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ILBsWXHk-Lw)

After a day doing nothing Nicole needed to do something more constructive while hiding from the world. Eating ice cream for breakfast was fun for one day, not something to do every day. She had been told to relax, take the pressure off herself, except for the last five years she had been doing the opposite. It was all she knew how to do. Work hard, play hard. Her breakdown may have come sooner rather than later, but it would have come eventually. No one can live that way and not be affected. 

Shae pretended to take it all in her stride, giving off that cool calm vibe the others in the band fed off. Nicole knew it was an act, finding her crying sometimes in the bedroom, too drained even to explain why she was crying. They would sit together, holding each other, Nicole rocking her like a child, letting her release whatever was making her upset. 

The guys in the band were less emotional, mostly surviving on whatever kept them going. Dylan was the closest to the girls, the drummer, the quiet one ironically, less of an extrovert compared to Alex and Troy, Shae’s brother. He and Nicole would occasionally lock horns, Shae having to step in, mediate a musical difference. She knew better than to side with Nicole every time, although Nicole was invariably right when it came to a song, something she would never tell her brother to his face. 

Nicole’s manager suggested she might spend the time in Harmony writing new songs for the band, hoping it would keep her connected, able to come back when she was ready. Nicole told her she could never see that happening, although even she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. To her the band and Shae were the same, without Shae there was no band, simply a group of players who stood together on stage. It was as though the band’s heart stopped at the same time as Shae’s. 

Jake was busy scrubbing the outside of a boat as Nicole approached, not realising she was behind him, music blaring through his earphones. As he turned to wet the brush he caught sight of Nicole’s toned legs, his eyes resting on them longer than they should. The look on his face told Nicole all she needed to know. “I’m back,” she said, giving a little wave of her hand. “What do you want me to do?”

Fumbling to remove his earphones, he managed to drop them in the bucket of water, cursing loudly as he pulled them out, rubbing the now sodden sound deliverers on his tee shirt. “Could do with a hand inside,” he said, without meaning to sound smutty. “Seats need a good rub down.”

Nicole knew where most of the cleaning equipment was kept. She had helped her uncle in the past, earning extra money during the holidays before jetting off to stardom. She and Jake had remained friends, even though Jake made it known he wanted what they had to be more than just friends. As much as she liked him, she knew that was never going to happen. She never told him the reason, he none the wiser. 

She had forgotten how hard cleaning boats could be, working in cramped positions, grateful for the coffee Jake returned with from the small café next to her uncle’s place. “How’s the band doing?” he asked, handing her the drink, holding his gaze on her face. “You going back?”

“Band’s great. Don’t know. I might get used to cleaning boats and stay here.”

“Not much here to stay for,” Jake replied. “Thinking of heading out myself.”

“Does my uncle know?”

Jake nodded. “He was the one who suggested it. Says a guy like me needs to go do things with his life.”

“Have you made any plans?”

Jake sipped his coffee, removing a piece of soggy napkin from the side. “Nope.”

That was Jake. Content to spend his life tending boats by a lake, no idea what the rest of the world looked like, no idea what was out there beyond where he grew up. His lack of ambition, his lack of understanding, his lack of experience of a wider world was familiar to Nicole, part of the reason she returned to Harmony. There was no getting anywhere, no chasing the bigger dream. Like the story of the big banker who tells a local fisherman with one boat to buy more boats, in order to grow his business to a size where the fisherman could sell it and make millions. The fisherman asked why he needed to make millions, the banker explaining to the fisherman he could then retire a wealthy man and enjoy his time fishing. 

Nicole’s phone buzzed, a text from Robin asking if she would be at the house later, wanting Jeremy to finally meet her. She replied, inviting them over for a meal, realising she had almost nothing in. Her day was suddenly becoming busier. Helping Jake, grocery shopping, Waverly’s guitar lesson, preparing a meal, she would have her work cut out. 

Three boats cleaned, she left Jake early afternoon to prepare the last boat alone, heading to the grocery store to pick up supplies. As she drove past Terra’s she could see Waverly through the window taking an order, deciding she would drop in, pick up something for dessert, check what time Waverly would be coming over.

The expression on Waverly’s face was the same as Jake’s as she entered Terra’s, Nicole waiting by the counter while Waverly finished serving two customers. “Hi, you’re here,” she said, unable to meet Nicole’s eyes.

“Yes, I’m here. Need more of that delicious apple pie.”

“Breakfast,” Waverly replied, her cheekiness earning a smile from Nicole.

“Need to stay away from unhealthy breakfasts. For a dinner party this evening.”

“How many slices?”

“Four, if you’re staying. Robin and Jeremy are coming over.”

Waverly’s eyes met Nicole’s briefly, her mouth opening to say something, unable to get the words out. Nicole Haught was inviting her to dinner at her house, a dinner date with her idol eating apple pie. Her hands shook as she placed four slices in a box, ringing up the price, taking the twenty dollar note from Nicole’s hand, returning with the change. 

“What time does your shift end?” Nicole asked, pie box in her hands.

“Four. It’s not so busy today. I can come over straight after. No, wait, I need to get your guitar and leave something for pa’s dinner.”

“I can pick you up at the house,” Nicole suggested. “Saves you having to cycle over.”

A young woman approached, standing beside Nicole, waiting for her to finish speaking. “I hope you don’t mind, but could I have a photo with you. I’ve got all your songs.”

Nicole smiled, taking the woman’s phone, posing for the obligatory shot. Handing it back the woman checked the photo. “You’re even prettier in person. When’s your next song coming out?”

“Not sure. I’ve left the band.”

“I knew it,” the woman replied. “I said to my husband, you’re too good for that band. Didn’t I honey?”

A man looked up from the menu, clueless as to what his wife was yelling across the café, smiling when he recognised Nicole. “Vanilla ice cream on mine,” he replied, returning to the reading material in his hands.

Waverly was waiting outside her house as Nicole pulled up shortly before five. She noticed Waverly had changed into a dress, the first time she’d seen her out of shorts. It suited her, gave her even more of a feminine look, while accentuating her legs. Nicole was more comfortable in jeans and a tee shirt, preferably black, a distressed leather jacket completing her look. Seldom did she wear a dress, so seldom it took Shae by surprise the first time she saw her wearing one, unable to stop herself laughing. 

“How’s the guitar?” Nicole asked, as they drove back to her house.

“Great. Really good. Great.”

Nicole glanced over, Waverly’s cheeks the colour of strawberries. “You okay?”

“Great. The colour is great.”

“You know, I’m just like you. I grew up around here, I rode my bike like you, I’m no different.”

“I know,” Waverly replied, her head remaining down. “But, you’re famous. That woman in the café. Everyone knows you.”

“Sure, everyone knows me. Except, they don’t. They know Nicole Haught the lead singer and ace guitar player, they don’t know me. They think they know me, which can get real tired real quick.”

“Does it feel weird when people recognise you?”

“Every time. It’s the look. Like I can walk on water.”

“Can you?” Waverly asked, beginning to relax a little in Nicole’s company.

“Yep. And, make rainbows come out my ass. I’m as normal as you, Waverly Earp.”

“Oh, I can do the rainbow thing. It’s my party trick.”

Nicole laughed. “Like it. If you keep going like that I’ll let you have some apple pie.”

The lesson over, Waverly helped prepare the salad, while Nicole fumbled her way through making the pasta dish, managing to burn the sauce much to Waverly’s amusement. Nicole explained she hadn’t had much practise in the kitchen, able to make a sandwich at best, relying on room service and takeaways while travelling. Robin and Jeremy arrived early, Nicole leaving Waverly to finish preparing the main course, her cooking skills infinitely better given she cooked at home and occasionally in the café if it was short-staffed.

Jeremy had that look when Robin introduced Nicole, shaking her hand, unable to stop staring. Waverly now understood what Nicole was telling her about being famous. Jeremy had never met Nicole, and yet he assumed he knew her simply by recognising her face and knowing her songs. Robin had filled him in on stories of young Nicole, how shy she was, how clumsy she was, how sensitive she was, it didn’t matter, except it did to Nicole, wanting those near her to not see her any differently to the way Robin saw her. 

The meal over, apple pie served in the den, Nicole played a few songs, inviting Waverly to join in, the pair singing the Dark Side, their voices working well together. Nicole was impressed, complimenting Waverly’s talent and speed with which she learnt the chords. _Feels good to be playing with someone again,_ she thought, _and this girl can sing._

Waverly chose the next song, Breaking my Bones, one she had been practising before Nicole arrived. Nicole joined in half way through, letting Waverly have her moment to show them how well she could perform, the boys amazed she was that good. Robin cornered Nicole in the kitchen as she cleared away their plates, Waverly still playing to Jeremy. “Sorry about my lover. I told him to be cool, but he’s a huge fan.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it. Had to give Waverly another pep talk earlier. Tell her to take me off the pedestal.”

“She’s a really good singer. Don’t think she even realises how good she is.”

“I know. She’s definitely got something.”

“You do realise she has a huge crush on you.”

Nicole put down the plate in her hand, staring at Robin. “I didn’t. Fuck, really? Could explain the looks she’s been giving me. Fuck.”

“You must have seen it. Tell me you saw it.”

Nicole shook her head. “Nope. I’m so used to having others look at me as if I’m the hottest thing to walk into their life. Shae used to…”

“There’s nothing wrong in her having a crush on you. She’s old enough to know what she likes. Just happens to be you.”

“Fuck. I don’t even know how old she is.”

“Eighteen. Going to college soon. So, if you want to do anything you’d better get in quick.”

“Seriously, no. Not happening. Don’t even want to think about it. And, what’s to say she’s into chicks.”

Robin smiled. “She’s into chicks. I’m surprised you didn’t realise. You’re slacking girl.”

Another complication Nicole had to deal with, really wishing it wasn’t. She was beginning to enjoy her time with Waverly, even after only a few lessons. It gave her a purpose, an outlet and an excuse to play her songs. That was all she wanted. Nothing more. _I don’t need this right now,_ she thought, as she returned to the den, noticing Waverly’s eyes, realising Robin was right. _Great, this sucks. I’ll have to stop the lessons._

She picked up her guitar, smiling at Waverly, starting to play the song Shae wrote for her, the group listening in silence. “That’s new,” Waverly said at the end. “I’ve never heard that one.”

“It’s one of Shae’s. Her last. Keeps her with me.”

“It’s beautiful.”

“I know,” Nicole replied. “Like her.”

It was the first time Nicole mentioned Shae without breaking off. Waverly could sense something different, a slight irritation in Nicole’s voice in defence of someone she still loved. No one spoke on the short drive home, Waverly wanting to ask if she did something wrong, not being party to Robin’s conversation in the kitchen. As she got out she left Nicole’s guitar on the back seat, walking away assuming that would be the last time she would get to play with her idol. Nicole was half way home when she realised how unfair she was being, spotting the guitar case.

She rang the bell, a man’s voice shouting for Waverly to get the door, shouting again, cursing when Waverly didn’t respond. “Goddamn lazy good for nothing,” he shouted, opening the door, glaring at Nicole. 

Nicole could smell the alcohol as they faced off against each other. “Waverly forgot this,” she said, wondering whether this was such a good idea. “In my car.”

“What she doing in your car?” he hissed, grabbing the guitar, Nicole wishing she still had it in her hand. “Don’t need no daughter of mine getting in no stranger’s car.”

“I’m Nicole. Nancy’s niece.”

Ward took in the information, holding onto the door for support. “Don’t need no fancy singer coming here, giving my daughter fancy ideas.”

Waverly appeared from her bedroom, holding back, knowing it was futile saying anything to her father when he was like this. Nicole’s eyes met hers, holding her phone to her ear, Waverly nodding.

As Nicole walked away she could hear Ward’s voice shouting at Waverly telling her she was not to get in cars on her own, or go near that Haught girl. She heard the names he was calling her, wanting to go back, punch his face, wondering how Waverly could put up with such treatment.

She sat in her car, sending a text to Waverly to check she was okay. Waverly replied immediately apologising for her father’s behaviour, saying she would look after the guitar.

N: Why not come over tomorrow. We can talk.

W: I can’t. 

N: I’m sorry I was in a mood.

W: It’s fine.

N: Don’t let him get to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of the banker and the fisherman is one of those modern day tales with a moral attached. Sometimes we chase after that which is out of our reach failing to appreciate what we have within our grasp. It is also about knowing what is enough.
> 
> [the Banker & the Fisherman](https://bemorewithless.com/the-story-of-the-mexican-fisherman/)


	5. the Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole shares her pain with Waverly...
> 
> Music mood: [Antony & The Johnsons: Hope There's Someone](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=avabPY3XgRc)

Waverly sat on her bed practising the songs, waiting for the slam of her father’s bedroom door. He would have forgotten what he said by morning, about not going over to Nicole’s, although something had rattled him more than usual. They rarely spoke to each other these days, Ward managing to get up for work most mornings, heading out to his job as a park ranger, gone most of the day. Outside the house he was friendly with everyone, respected by the community even though most knew once the sun set and the whiskey bottle came out he could be mean. He stopped drinking outside the house, preferring to drown his sorrows in front of the TV, eating whatever Waverly had cooked him.

Willa left long before Wynonna ever took flight. A bust up over dating someone Ward didn’t approve of, making her mind up she would be better off somewhere other than Harmony. Last anyone heard she was in New York working as a waitress. Waverly had never been close to her eldest sister, the bond between her and Wynonna growing stronger after her mother decided looking after three girls and a drunk husband was too much. Michelle kept in contact for a while, sending birthday cards and gifts, promising to visit at Christmas, never showing up. Waverly was too young to fully understand, happy to have Wynonna to look after her, gradually forgetting she had a mother. When kids at school asked she would say her mother drowned in the lake gaining some sympathy. Better that than be teased for having a runaway mom.

In many ways she was like Nicole, learning how to keep her business to herself, given how small the community was in Harmony. If you didn’t want folks to know your business you kept your mouth shut. Her phone buzzed again. Another message from Nicole.

N: The guitar is a present. It’s yours. 

W: I can’t. Really.

N: A gift for someone who can sing.

W: Can I call you tomorrow?

N: I’m here for you if you need me.

Nicole sat outside looking at the lights across the water, annoyed she hadn’t stood up to Ward. Afterall, he was the one who approached her aunt for the lessons. To then ban his daughter from having those lessons riled her more than anything. Except, the foul language he dished out to Waverly hurt even more. She didn’t know this kid, never hung out with her when she lived in Harmony, yet her heart went out to Waverly. There was no way she was letting Ward stop Waverly enjoying what she wanted to do.

A new fire in her belly, she was determined to continue offering her services to Waverly so long as she wanted them. She wished she had Wynonna’s number to tell her what she witnessed earlier. They had been friends, the four amigos they called themselves, Robin, Laura and Wynonna all around the same age, Waverly too young to join them, Willa hanging out with Greg and his friends. She lost contact with Wynonna after the band took off, Robin occasionally getting a message from her, the only person Wynonna managed to keep in contact with. Other than Waverly.

Another sleepless night, Nicole rattled around the house until the early hours, tidying up after the meal, eating nachos watching a black and white movie, unable to get the evening out of her head. Two sleeping pills at three in the morning, she slept in, waking after eleven, checking her phone. One missed call from Waverly. She called her immediately.

“You okay?” she asked, wondering where Waverly was.

“Yep.”

“Do you need someone to talk to?”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it. I’m really sorry he was rude to you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. But, it’s not okay how he spoke to you.”

“As I said, I’m used to it. It’s really kind of you giving me your guitar, but I can’t accept it. I’ll return it later.”

“If you want. I still have to fix yours.”

“I’ve got to go. I’ll drop it over after my shift ends.”

Nicole knew better than to force the issue. At least she might get a chance to talk to Waverly when she returned the guitar. Not knowing what to do with herself she called her mother saying she would drive over, catch up, say hi to her step father, if he was around. The drive to Scranton brought back memories, her mother driving her to school, watching as her car pulled away knowing she had another day of being the kid who stood out, her height and hair making her an easy target. Had the band not come into her life she would have gone under, drowned in her own self-hatred. It gave her a purpose, an outlet for her talent, and she was talented, very talented, except she was the last to see it. 

It took Shae to bring her out of her shell, telling her repeatedly how good she was, how much she had to offer. Even Shae’s kind words didn’t register at first, assuming she was being nice, being Shae. It was only after their video went viral she began to believe she might actually have a gift for making music, that Shae might be telling the truth. It gave her the confidence to finally accept who she was. It also gave her the confidence to ask Shae out on their first date. 

A pleasant lunch with her mother, she returned to Harmony to wait for Waverly, working on her guitar in case Waverly decided she wanted to take it with her. A text from Waverly told her she would be over in ten minutes, Nicole outside on the decking when she cycled up the driveway. She smiled as Waverly dropped her bike the way she used to, without a care in the world that it might be taken. 

Hoping Waverly would join her, she waited for the right moment to speak. It never came. Waverly simply placed the guitar against a chair, not looking over, turning on her heels. Nicole watched as she cycled away, her heart breaking for the one student she had who decided to give up because that was easier than fighting against all the bull being thrown her way. She wanted to shout after her, tell her she was a friend, tell her she had her back. She let her go.

Nicole didn’t hear from Waverly for a week, wondering whether she should casually drop by Terra’s on the pretence of returning her guitar. She decided to let it go, let Waverly find her if she needed someone, otherwise accepting this wasn’t her fight. Her days slipped quickly into a routine, song writing in the morning, helping Jake in the afternoon, eating with her aunt and uncle most nights, the prospect of cooking for herself still too far a leap into normality. 

She could see the lights on in Waverly’s house, knowing she was home, not wanting to disturb. She asked her aunt about Ward, Nancy shaking her head saying little more than it was a shame Michelle had up left him to look after three kids on his own. She had helped out babysitting, teaching the girls how to cook, going with them to buy clothes, nursing them when they were sick. All the things a mother should do. 

Nicole didn’t hear Waverly approaching, her eyes closed, listening to the sounds coming from the lake, a new song forming in her head. She jumped at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, turning to see who it was. “Hey, you okay?”

“Can we talk?” Waverly asked, looking back at her house, worried her father might stagger out at any moment. 

Nicole pointed to her uncle’s seat, letting Waverly come to her in her own time, knowing what it felt like to have the weight of a problem on your shoulders with no one to tell your story to. Waverly sat playing with a plectrum between her fingers, wanting to say so much, not sure if she could trust Nicole. “Wynonna asked about you,” she said, finding the only way in.

“How’s she doing?” Nicole asked, taking a sip of her aunt’s iced tea, not making eye contact.

“Good. She told me to keep practising.”

“You need a guitar for that. I fixed yours. Offer of mine is still there.”

“Let me know how much I owe you.”

Nicole looked over, pulling herself up on her seat, placing her mug on the crate beside her chair. “I need someone to cook for me, if you’re willing. Fair wage, if it’s not too much on top of everything else you’re doing. Reckon it will help you get over to see Wynonna.”

“You do need a cook,” Waverly said, contemplating the offer. “I tasted your pasta sauce.”

“Nothing fancy. I could happily live on hotdogs.”

“I could stop by after Terra’s, get something ready for you to heat up.”

“If you brought over pie from the café that would be good too.”

“Fine. I’ll bring over pie. I’d better go.”

Like a frightened animal, Nicole knew better than to take the direct route to get Waverly to open up, knowing a few breadcrumbs, or hotdogs might gain her the trust a straightforward question would not. The arrangement worked perfectly, Waverly arriving after her shift, Nicole helping where needed, each finding a little peace in the company of the other. They resumed the lessons, shorter to allow Waverly to get home in time for Ward, Nicole not mentioning the night she dropped off the guitar.

Nicole finished playing a new song she was working on. “What do you think? Needs some work.”

“It’s great. I love the tempo. Slower than your other songs. Can you teach me?”

“Sure. I kind of wrote it for you. I’m calling it, Of All the Girls.”

“Oh. I thought it was for Shae. Thanks.”

“You know about Shae and me.”

Waverly nodded. “It’s kind of why I got into your music.”

“I didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Well, apart from Robin, but we never talked, talked. We both knew we were different. Probably how we ended up hanging out together.”

Waverly was quiet, not wanting to say anything that might get out, get back to Ward. She pretended to practise the chords of one of Nicole’s songs, failing to notice her idol was watching her.

“Robin has a pretty good radar when it comes to these things. I’m useless. It has to be shoved in my face before I realise.”

Waverly looked up. “What did Robin say?”

“It’s okay to like girls.”

The fear returned to Waverly’s eyes, realising she had been outed by Robin. “I’ve gotta go,” she replied, putting down the guitar, her hands shaking. “I’m working late at Terra’s tomorrow.”

“Waverly, sit. Talk to me. This goes no further than me.”

Waverly shook her head, her eyes beginning to water, wanting desperately to confide in Nicole, unable to find the courage. “I can’t. I need to go.”

“I haven’t come out to my mother,” Nicole said. “Or, my aunt and uncle. I think my mother knows, but we’ve never talked about it. I’ve never sat down with her and had that conversation. Does that make sense?”

Waverly took her seat, refusing to look at Nicole. “When did you know?”

“When I met Shae. We were fifteen. I had a huge crush on her. She didn’t know at first, but then her brother told her I was always staring at her with heart eyes. I thought they’d throw me out of the band, I was so scared.”

“How did you know Shae liked you?”

“I didn’t. I thought she liked Alex the bass guitarist, that’s why it took ages to ask her out. I remember feeling sick right up to the moment.”

“There’s a girl at school I like,” Waverly began, her voice shaky. “I tried talking to her, but she gave me a weird look, so I didn’t tell her.”

“I’ve only ever been with Shae. Love at first sight, I guess. I mean, I’ve looked at other girls, but Shae was the one. I was lucky I guess.”

Waverly glanced over, wanting to hug Nicole. “I’m so sorry what happened. Especially how close you were.”

It was Nicole’s turn to feel the raw pain of emotion rising. “I miss her every single day. I miss everything about her. She was perfect and I don’t get to spend my life with her. I’m sorry, this is hard for me. I shouldn’t be dumping this on you.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Really. I’m glad you’re able to tell me. I’m glad you’re confiding in me. Is that why you left the band?”

Nicole nodded, wiping away tears with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “It broke me. Literally broke me in two. The only way out was through drinking. And then I messed up big time in LA and realised if I didn’t get help I would never get over what happened.”

“You went to rehab?” Waverly asked. “There was nothing written about it.”

“It was kept quiet. Our manager said if it got out it would damage the band’s reputation. I wish it had got out, given all the rubbish that was written about me having an argument with the band, storming off like a spoilt brat. All lies. I’m grieving and I have to deal with all the hate that came my way.”

“Oh Nicole. That’s dreadful. I read some of it, didn’t believe any of it. I think most of your true fans knew you were struggling with Shae’s death.”

Nicole forced a smile, remembering what the clinic told her about opening up to the pain. “I’m not ready to move on,” she said. “But, I can be here for you, if you need me. Even if I am an emotional wreck.”

“Thank you. I…thank you. This means more to me than you’ll ever know. I haven’t told Wynonna.”

“I won’t say a word. I don’t have her number anyway. Was hoping you could give it to me.”

Waverly hesitated, hoping Nicole would be true to her word, pulling out her phone, sending the number to Nicole’s. “Will you be okay if I go? Need to get back to make my dinner.”

“Sure, don’t worry about me, I’ll be okay. And, thank you. I’m glad I have someone to share this with.”

Waverly approached, nervous about touching Nicole, simply standing in front of her idol. Her hand reached out, stroking Nicole’s hair as much to comfort herself as Nicole. She felt Nicole’s arms wrap round her waist, her head resting on her stomach and in that moment the spell was broken. She no longer saw Nicole as some distant star, who she looked up to. She now saw her as a broken human being, in need of love, in need of someone to help her heal.


	6. the Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole needs to find home...
> 
> Music mood: [George Michael: The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wXRvZ5kCNeQ\))

Nicole sent a text to Wynonna to say hi. She didn’t receive a response until the following morning, when her phone rang, Wynonna’s familiar voice in her ear waking her from a deep sleep. “Hi, pug face, how’s it going?”

“Is that you? Where are you?”

“Currently, walking back from the beach. Hear you’re giving Waverly lessons. She’s a big fan of yours.”

“She’s really good. Did you know she could sing?”

“Nope. She’s not the most talkative. Singative. Haven’t heard her play either.”

“She’s cooking for me. Kind of hopeless in that area. Man, it’s good to hear your voice. How you keeping?”

“I’m great. Living the dream. Working all hours at a lousy bar, boss hates me, my digs smell of cabbage, or maybe something died. Yeah, all good.”

Nicole laughed. “Definitely living the dream. Waverly mentioned coming to see you. I’ve got a place in Marbella, wondered if you’d like to stay there. The key’s with the housekeeper, I’ll text you her number. So long as you don’t have any wild parties.”

“Are you freaking serious?” Wynonna replied. “Seriously, are you serious?”

“I’m serious. Pointless having a property and it not being used. What are friends for if you can’t crash at their place?”

“Haught, I love you. I will never call you pug face ever again.”

“I quite like it. Reminds me of the old times. Can’t remember what I called you.”

“Toad breath. Or, toad features. Toad something.”

“Did you know Laura’s pregnant?” Nicole asked.

“No way. If you see her say hi from me. Guess, one of us had to eventually. You got any plans?”

“For kids. Still trying to figure out how my life works. Can I ask you something? About Ward.”

“I know what you’re gonna say. How can he drink that much and still be alive? Beats me.”

Nicole paused, not wanting to stir up trouble, worried it would get back to Waverly. “I dropped a guitar over to your house and he acted like he didn’t know me.”

“It’s the drink. He can’t remember his own name most nights. I keep saying to Waverly to get out. I’m just glad she’s going to Penn, at least she’ll get her own life. Gotta go, battery’s dying on me. Really appreciate the house offer. I’ll call in a few days to let you know about the huge party I’m throwing there.”

“Don’t you dare, Wyn. If I hear…”

Wynonna hung up, Nicole now wondering if it was such a good idea to let her friend stay. She trusted Wynonna, although knew what she could be like. Still, it served a purpose. What was the point of having properties if they were sitting idle, especially when a friend needed a place that didn’t smell of dead cabbage, or whatever the smell was? 

Nicole strummed her guitar on the decking, the heady smell of the water filling her nostrils, the calls of creatures out for their midnight feast telling her the world carried on. Her heart continued to bleed for Shae, an open wound she knew not how to close. Waverly’s body, her hands in her hair, had been a comfort, letting her know her own world still carried on, still cared for her, still wanted her to be a part of it. She wanted nothing more than to feel a part of something again. To feel she belonged.

Sport had been her way of belonging before music took over. A way of gaining a little respect from kids who looked past what she looked like so long as she could help the team win. It also kept her away from those who chose to single her out as a target for their own entertainment.

“Your mom’s a hoe,” the boy said, earning a laugh from the class. “That’s why you have red hair.”

“And, yours has no brains. That’s why you are a dumb ass.”

That earned Nicole a fat lip, but she was proud to wear it, gaining a few more friends in the process who recognised she wouldn’t be defeated by a bully. Having come from New York she wasn’t going to let some spotty thug get the better of her. She had Wynonna to thank, who taught her staying in the fight was better than walking away. If only for the stories afterwards. She wished Wynonna was in Harmony, wondering why they had drifted apart, hoping to rekindle a friendship that helped her adjust from being the kid from New York to the kid who hung out with those who found themselves adrift by a lake.

She remembered the times the four amigos would cycle to some secluded spot, sharing a can of beer Wynonna had stolen from her house, Laura sometimes bringing a cigarette and lighter, taken from Nicole’s aunt. She always blamed Greg if Nancy ever accused her of stealing, although Nancy guessed it was her. They would pretend to be grown up, no one liking the taste of beer, apart from Wynonna, everyone trying not to cough when inhaling. A rite of passage, a feeling they could do anything with their lives, each with their own big dreams of what their futures might hold.

Robin wanted to study art in New York, Laura wanted to become an actor, Wynonna wanted to run a casino in Las Vegas and Nicole wanted to be a lawyer, like her father, hoping to work at his firm. How different their lives turned out to the ones they wanted. They would sit around their makeshift campfire, Nicole strumming on her guitar, making all their plans, saying they would be friends forever, would meet each year in Harmony no matter where they were, celebrate each other’s success.

Waverly’s late shift at Terra’s meant she didn’t have long to cook a meal for Nicole. They skipped the lesson, Waverly rushing to prepare everything, Nicole feeling guilty she couldn’t do this herself. She managed to cut the salad without injury, earning a smile from Waverly, who after their talk seemed more relaxed. “Wyn sent me a text. That’s really generous of you. She hates where she’s living.”

“If I’d known she was there I would have offered sooner. If…when you go to see her you’ll have somewhere to stay that doesn’t smell of cabbage.”

“I wish I was out there now. Miss not having her around.”

“Me too. It was so good hearing her voice. Still the same Wynonna. She called me pug face.”

“Oh, God. I’m so sorry. She doesn’t think before she opens her mouth.”

“It’s good. It’s what I need. Someone who reminds me of all the yesterdays I spent here.”

Waverly continued chopping an onion, ready to fry. “Are you okay? From yesterday. What you said.”

“Sure. I needed to get that off my chest. I can’t keep Shae bottled inside forever. Gotta let her out.”

“I wish I could find someone like her.”

“You will,” Nicole replied. “I bet there’s someone waiting to meet you at college who will take your breath away.”

“I guess. It seems like a world away from here. I’m worried about pa, leaving him, but I have to go. There’s got to be more to life than here.”

“There is. It’s a big world, lots to see. Ward will be fine. If you like I’ll get Nancy to keep an eye on him. I’d offer, but I’m kind of not his favourite rock star.”

Waverly looked up from the onion. “I think he’s just angry at those who leave Harmony. He won’t speak to Wyn when she calls. I reckon he’ll do the same to me when I go to Penn.”

Nicole stopped chopping the tomato, putting down the knife. “No one should speak to you the way Ward did. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say anything, but that is not right. You deserve better.”

“He doesn’t mean what he says.”

“That’s not the point. It was said. No matter how drunk he is, that’s no way to speak to you. You’re a fantastic kid, who can cook, can sing, can play a guitar, not as good as me, but decent, who is going to be a great lawyer one day.”

“When you put it like that, yeah I’m a great kid. Just wish I had your confidence.”

“Ask Wynonna what I was like as a kid. No confidence, hardly spoke, always feeling like an outsider. Your sister helped me a lot. Taught me to stand up for myself. Encouraged me to join the band. If it weren’t for her I would never have met Shae, never got to see the world, got to be part of something that filled me with joy.”

“Wow, I never knew that. I vaguely remember you when I was young. You’re right, I don’t ever remember talking to you. Were you really that shy?”

Nicole nodded. “I had to pretend to be this super cool, loud rock chic for the band. But, that’s not me. That’s an act. The real me is the kid who took three years to ask her girlfriend out because I was scared she’d say no.”

“I’m glad I finally got to meet the real you,” Waverly replied. “And, I’m sorry I was so weird around you when we first met. I kind of had this image of you, of who I thought you’d be. You’re way better in person, even if you can’t cook.”

“I can salad. I’m a great salad maker.”

Waverly laughed. “You are. You could get a job at Terra’s. I’d better go. Keep stirring the sauce. Don’t let it burn. Ten minutes and it’ll be done.”

“Yes ma’am,” Nicole replied, saluting.

That earned her a pat on the butt from Waverly, a more natural friendship forming between them with each encounter. Waverly was different to her sister, less brash, less willing to fight the world. Nicole hoped in time their friendship would be something to keep her going, give her hope of a brighter tomorrow. She knew, however, with Waverly’s eventual escape to college she would have to work out what she was to do with her life. 

The easiest option would be to return to the band, except that no longer felt like home. And, there was Troy to deal with, who had also struggled with Shae no longer being there for him. He didn’t blame Nicole, but he resented her in his own twisted mind, confiding in Dylan that he wished Nicole had been the one on the scooter, not Shae. It was a mean thing to think, he knew that, he never said it to her face. He didn’t have to, Nicole had had the same thought. It should have been her on that scooter, it should have been her with Shae on that road.

The police were called shortly after midnight when Shae failed to return to the hotel. Her body wasn’t found till the next morning, lying where she fell having slipped off the side of the road into the valley below. The brakes on the scooter were the cause, the police report stating she must have attempted to break too hard resulting in her going over the edge. At first, Nicole couldn’t take in what had happened, believing she must still be alive. Then the anger came, at herself for not being with her, at the hire company for giving them a broken scooter, at Shae for not listening to her, telling her it was too late to go for a ride. She knew Shae needed space, needed to escape the confines of their sheltered lifestyle. Be free. It was her way of coping with the pressures of being in the band 24/7. A few hours alone, to go where she wanted, kept her sane. Kept her alive. Except, on that particular night it didn’t.

Nicole was angry at the world, the unfairness of it all, the sickening realisation her rock, her sanctuary from the crazy world in which they existed was no longer there for her. She found herself begging the Universe to give her back her Shae, even if it meant forsaking her own existence. And then, the drinking started, knowing the Universe couldn’t grant her the one wish she wanted. Better to not feel the pain of existence, drown it out, than have to live with the nothingness, the nowhereness that comes with the loss of a loved one.

And, all the while she had to carry on being a rock chic, smiling for the fans, signing autographs, taking photos, kissing cheeks. And, all the while she was dying inside.

Her return to Harmony was to find herself again, in her own time, in her own way. She needed to not be Nicole Haught, she needed to be the girl who lived by a lake, part of a small community who came and went about their everyday business. She needed to belong again, find home within herself. 

Her manager called to say she would be in New York in a week’s time, wondering if it would be okay to come visit. Nicole said it would be fine, although wished she could have waited a little longer, not wanting to be pressured into anything. She knew she wasn’t ready to rejoin the band, if at all. If only she knew what she wanted to do with her life, she would have some defence against returning to performing when her heart wasn’t in it. 

She called her mother, asking for advice, her mother saying she would come over when Rosita arrived to give her support. She too didn’t want to see Nicole forced into doing something that would set her back. The night she sat with her in the hospital she vowed to take care of her daughter, angry at herself for not realising what Nicole must have been going through, not realising her daughter had lost the love of her life. 

Waverly had the afternoon off, texting Nicole to ask if it was okay to come over. Nicole was halfway through cleaning one of the boats, Jake hanging over the side talking to her, his eyes on her legs. He liked her legs, really liked her legs. She handed him the sponge, telling him she needed to be somewhere, heading home to wait for Waverly.

“I’ve been thinking,” Nicole said, as she tucked into a slice of apple pie. “Would you be up for a visit to Spain? I need to check Wynonna isn’t using the place for wild parties.”

“I’ve not saved up enough,” Waverly replied. “I’m hoping to be able to go in the Christmas break.”

“My treat. I need a travel companion. I’m terrified of flying. Seriously cannot get on a plane on my own.”

“But, all the flying you did with the band.”

“With the band. Never alone. Yes, I know, it’s weird, but that’s who I am.”

“You’re right. That is weird. Totally weird. Weirder than weird.”

“Alright, alright. Will you come with me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I speak of home, I mean a spiritual home, a place where you feel you belong, usually because your ideas or attitudes are the same as those of the people who live there. More fundamentally, it is the moment you finally realise you are home. That every obsession, every addiction, every unhealthy relationship, was a futile attempt to find a home somewhere outside of yourself.
> 
> In my usual nosey fashion, I've been looking at places Nicole might own in Marbella, Spain. There's an exclusive area near the port (Puerto Banus) which is also where most of the expensive houses are.
> 
> [Party Place in Costabella](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFqt7_gKFjY)This place is cool. Right on the beach and has The Beloved as a backing track which is MY FAVOURITE BAND of all time. 
> 
> [La Pepina (the Cucumber)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R6SwEqR41QM) is kind of what I imagine her place to be like. 
> 
> [Villa Cullinan (the Diamond)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDV4HhwHLps) is also rather nice, with an equally nice price tag. Too much...nah...not for Nicole Haught...!


	7. the Hostage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Rosita want...
> 
> Music mood: [The Beloved: Missing You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VcmT1VN-QN8)
> 
> FYI: a 'score' = 20. Also, slang for kissing/having sex. 
> 
> .

Rosita’s red sports car pulled up outside the house, Nicole watching as she emerged, dressed in her usual designer suit, designer jewellery and designer sunglasses. She knew how to enjoy life, making sure all her hard work was rewarded. Her corporate background in law taught her to play hard, real hard and dirty when it came to any deal for the band. One of a score she managed, well, very well, knowing how to look a man, or woman, in the eye across the negotiating table and get what she came for. Then some.

The only thing she hadn't been able to get was Nicole. Frustrated that Nicole was content with Shae, who in her opinion should have been dropped from the band long before it ever became famous. She could see the enormous potential in Nicole, her gift for making their music come alive, able to express through her words a depth of feeling uncanny for someone so young. Shae knew the band existed simply because Nicole existed. Shae also knew Rosita was on the prowl, wanting Nicole for herself.

She had mentioned this to Nicole on a few occasions, telling her to be careful, warning her if she so much as looked at Rosita she would walk away. Nicole would end up on her knees saying she only wanted one person in her life, telling Shae no one would ever come between them. It usually ended up in hot sex, the pair desperate to suck everything from their lover for fear of the other leaving them. It was love, young love, passionate love. Love the Gods admire, tainted only by the world they moved in and the person who would seek to drive a wedge between them for her own benefit. 

Rosita took in Nicole’s tanned body, the corners of her mouth turning up slightly to mark her approval. “I can see R&R is working for you. Must try it myself. Hello to my fabulous singer.”

“Hi Ros, you look well,” Nicole replied, gripping her coffee cup tighter.

Rosita approached, kissing Nicole on each cheek, resting her hand on Nicole’s hip a little longer than was comfortable. She felt the resistance, enjoying the power she had over her young protégé. Nicole was used to her overly tactile approach when it came to her body, noticing she was never as touchy with the other band members, particularly Shae, each eyeing the other suspiciously, jealously. 

Nicole’s mother was late, texting to say she was on her way, apologising for not factoring in the traffic. She arrived twenty minutes later, rushing through the door flustered, Nicole heading to the kitchen to make her a coffee, her mother following after greeting Rosita. “I’m so sorry darling, I forget how busy it gets. Really should have left earlier. You okay? You look tired. Are you eating properly?”

“Waverly’s cooking for me. Do you remember Waverly? Ward’s youngest.”

“Vaguely. Didn’t you hang around with her sister?”

“She’s in Spain. I’m thinking of visiting, check on the house.”

“Wonderful darling,” her mother replied. “I could do with a break. Frank’s driving me crazy.”

“Ah, I kind of invited Waverly to go with me so she can see her sister. You can come too if you like. I don’t mind.”

“It’s fine. Just so long as you have someone on plane with you. You know how stressed you get.”

“Really. Come with us. I’ll feel bad knowing you wanted to and couldn’t.”

“If you don’t mind. I’ll tell Frank you need me. You need your mommy, don’t you? Say you need your mommy.”

Nicole laughed. “I need my mommy. International rock star needs her mommy. We’d better get back to Ros. She looks serious.”

“Mommy will handle her.”

Ros was waiting for them, sipping her coffee, her eyes remaining on Nicole’s toned body as she sat opposite looking at the papers laid out on the table. “I’ve negotiated a new record deal for the band,” she began. “It wasn’t easy, but I convinced the record label you are too hot to pass up. And, with the new band line-up I can see this as a win-win for everyone.”

Nicole looked at her mother, knowing she was being railroaded into something she wasn’t willing to accept, knowing she wasn’t ready to return to that life. Her mother could see the fear in her daughter’s eyes, taking her hand, patting it. “Ros, that’s great. But, you and I both know Nicole isn’t well enough to take on the pressures of performing.”

“I agree,” Rosita replied, “that’s why I told Sony they would need to give you three months to get back to performing. The money they’re offering is very generous. They like you. And, with their weight behind the band you’ll go even further than you dreamed possible. It’s a once in a lifetime offer.”

“What do the others say?” Nicole asked.

“They’re all for it. But, it has to be with you. You are what makes the band. Sony recognises that and have stipulated it as part of the deal.”

“I’m not ready. I can’t do this. Not on my own.”

“You won’t be on your own. You’ll have the band. And, I’ll be with you, to guide you. Keep you from throwing up on me. Think about it. For Dylan, Alex and Troy. And, whoever that new girl is.”

“Lea. Her name’s Lea,” Nicole replied, horrified Rosita hadn’t bothered to remember her name.

“She’ll have to go. She doesn’t sit well with the image of the band.”

“I need time to think. I need to think this through.”

“We don’t have much time. Sony wants the ink dry on this contract by the end of the month.”

“But…but that doesn’t give me enough time.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I really am, given all that’s happened. But, this is your future. This is what you were born to do. You’re exceptionally talented, you’re young, you’ll have Sony behind you all the way. As, I said. It’s a win-win.”

“Rosita,” Nicole’s mother interrupted, “this is indeed a fantastic opportunity. But, if Nicole isn’t well enough it’ll backfire on everyone. You saw how she was after Shae’s death, you saw how it nearly destroyed her. Can you afford to let that happen again, with Sony breathing down your neck?”

“I do understand. Really I do. I know I come across as a hardnosed lawyer, but I know how the pressure got to you. I’ll make sure you continue to receive therapy, get the support you need to make this work. This is a good thing. Trust me. I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if I didn’t think this was the right direction. Just, think about it. Maybe talk to the band, get their feelings. This is for you Nicole.”

“I can’t do this without Shae.” Nicole said, her eyes begging Rosita to back off. “I lost the one person who meant everything to me. It’s not the same without her. It’ll never be the same.”

“Shae was special,” Rosita replied. “I know what she meant to you. She can never be replaced. She can, however, be honoured in memory by the band’s success. She wouldn’t want the band to die with her, would she? Shae loved the band.”

Nicole shook her head, her eyes filling. “She was the band. She was my life.”

“Look, I’m not going to force you to sign anything. Let me leave the paperwork. Take a few days to read through, check out what’s on the table. Nicole, this is a good thing.”

Rosita stood, moving round the table to kiss Nicole on both cheeks, taking in her smell as she did so. She was desperate to get Nicole back in the fold, if nothing else to make a move on her. Her negotiations with Sony were in part driven by her desire to bed this beautiful starlet. She calculated with the money the record label was offering Nicole would have little choice but to return to the band, which would give Rosita access to the one thing she so far had failed to win. Nicole’s love. And, if she couldn’t have Nicole’s love, she would at least have her body, figuring if she acted as a mentor she could find a way of getting inside Nicole’s pants. 

Nicole’s mother showed Rosita out, closing the door, returning to her daughter. “I don’t know what to advise? At least consider it. I don’t like Ros, but she has a point. This could be what you need. A fresh start.”

Tears ran down Nicole’s face. “Mom, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh, honey what? Tell me. What is it?”

“Shae and I were together.”

“I know honey. We all miss her.”

“You’re not listening. Together. We were together.”

Her mother’s face changed, her brow creasing, her eyes studying her daughter’s face. “I know you were close. Are you telling me…”

Nicole nodded. “Very close. When she died, I died inside.”

Nicole’s mother took in the information, wondering why she hadn’t realised before now. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me? Oh, Nicole, you poor, poor thing. And, you had to carry all that on your own.”

Nicole headed to the den, grabbing the whiskey bottle, pouring herself a large shot. Her mother followed, now fully aware of the pain Nicole had suffered losing Shae, the pain she still suffered. “Oh, darling, this isn’t the way. You know that. This won’t help. Talk to me. Nicole, talk to me.”

Nicole shook her head. “I’m lost.”

She sobbed as her mother rocked her, trying as best she could to comfort her daughter, Nicole holding the glass in her hand, needing to escape the pain, knowing the bottom of a bottle wasn’t the route to take. They didn’t hear Waverly enter, heading to the kitchen to leave ingredients for that evening’s meal. She heard Nicole’s mother talking, soothing Nicole, Nicole’s responses through tears, wondering what had happened.

Approaching the den, she came upon the pair, Nicole holding the glass, her head down, the tears falling on her bare knees. “Nicole, I’ve left some food. I’ll come back.”

Nicole’s mother looked up. “Waverly. It is Waverly? Nicole’s a little upset.”

“Is…is…can I do anything?”

“It’s fine honey. She just needs a bit of time to herself. She’ll be fine. And, thank you for looking after her.”

“No trouble. I’ll be back after my shift. I’ll bring pie. Three slices.”

“That’s really sweet of you honey. I think I may be here for a while. You run along, I’m staying with her.”

Waverly cycled to Terra’s upset by what she had seen, wondering what had happened to get Nicole in such a state. It was becoming clear whatever mask Nicole was wearing behind it lay a whole heap of pain, needing to be healed. She was no therapist, but knew enough about her own family’s repressed emotions to understand Nicole was in a world of hurt. 

Leaving work early, pie slices in a box, she returned to the house, Nicole’s mother greeting her as she entered. “How is she?” Waverly asked, placing the box on the counter. 

“Sleeping. I got her to take two pills. Thankfully she didn’t touch the whiskey.”

“I’ll start on the meal.”

“Thank you. Thank you for looking after my baby. She’s more sensitive than she looks. If I hadn’t been here when that manager of hers dropped the news, I don’t know what state she would be in.”

“News?” Waverly asked, not wanting to pry, not knowing what else to say.

“New record deal. She wants Nicole back in the band, even though she knows how fragile Nicole is right now. And, with Shae gone.”

“Is that why she’s upset?”

“I wish she’d told me sooner. I think a holiday is what everyone needs right now. I’m coming with you to Spain. I can’t leave Nicole like this and it’s too much to ask you to take this on.”

“You’re coming to Spain with us?”

“I’m not leaving my baby out of my sight.”

Waverly didn’t stay for dinner, having to get home to tend to Ward. She looked forward to her time alone with Nicole, eating pie outside on the decking, or while having their lesson. As much as she liked Nicole’s mom, having another person there would change the relationship, the friendship they had. And yet, seeing Nicole breaking her heart she knew she couldn’t fix her, only love her in whatever way she needed. And, right now Nicole needed her mom.

She sent Nicole a text saying she was there for her, that if she needed to talk she would be happy to listen. Her phone rang shortly before eleven, Nicole’s voice thanking her for the meal. “Your mom told me. About the deal.”

“She knows. She knows about Shae.”

“You told her? Was she okay?”

“I had to. I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to be the rock star if you don’t want to be.”

“It’s too big a deal. I’ll let everyone down if I don’t sign it. I’ll let Shae down.”

“But, if it’s not what you want.”

“I don’t know anymore. I don’t know anymore. I’m trapped.”

“Oh, Nicole. If your heart’s not in it.”

“Mom’s coming to Spain with us. Is that okay?”

“Of course. You still want to go?”

“I need to get away. I need time to think. I wish I could feel good about this, but I don’t. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Nicole, wait. You are an amazing artist. The world needs your music, your passion, but that mustn’t come at your expense. You can’t sell your soul to something that isn’t going to fulfil you. God, I’m sorry, it’s not my place to tell you this. Look, I love you as a friend. I don’t want you hurt.”

“Thank you. That means a lot. I love you too.”

Nicole’s step father arrived the next morning with several large cases packed with clothes, along with other items Nicole’s mother had instructed him to bring over. She scolded him for not remembering her pink shorts, going through the cases, making another list of items to bring over. “I can manage for a few hours on my own,” Nicole said, sympathising with Frank, knowing how bossy her mom could be. “Really, why don’t you pop home, sort everything out then come back. I won’t hit the bottle while you’re gone.”

“Are you sure darling? I don’t want you to be alone. Not when you have Rosita breathing down your neck.”

“I’ll be fine. Go. For me. Go.”

Nicole waited for her mother to leave, sitting in the den staring at the whiskey bottle too scared to go near it. She rang Waverly. “Hi, where are you?”

“In my bedroom, practising your song. Why?”

“I can’t do this on my own.”

“I’m coming over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no experience in the music industry. Basically, I make things up hoping it's sensible enough to pass muster, or someone will be kind enough put me straight. On that note (pun intended), I wanted the new record label deal to be plausible, banking on Sony (2nd biggest label, 1st Universal, 3rd Warner) being large enough with enough clout to make it a really, really difficult choice for Nicole. She's not stupid. She'll know Sony sniffing around is a good thing, but she's torn...what to do...what to do...!
> 
> Here is Sony's UK CEO explaining what he's looking for in a band: [I won't sign an artist who doesn't have a digital footprint](https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=6&v=TQKGe3TDLOw&feature=emb_title)
> 
> (Shout out to DJH1950 who told me how to imbed links...thank you).


	8. the Harassment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly feels Nicole's pain...

Waverly let herself in, wondering why the house was quiet. Checking in the den, there was no sign of Nicole, guessing she might be outside. She called out just in case, Nicole’s voice coming from one of the bedrooms. The door was closed as she approached, calling out again to check she had the right room. “In here.”

Waverly found Nicole curled up on the bed, her phone resting on the pillow. “You okay?” Waverly asked, not wanting to intrude.

“My life sucks.”

Waverly drew nearer, wanting to comfort her friend, not wanting to crowd her. “It’s pretty bad. You have to eat my cooking.”

Nicole looked up, forcing a smile. “I don’t know what to do?”

Waverly was now at the side of the bed, her instincts telling her to cradle Nicole as her mother had. “Can I join you?” 

Nicole moved her phone, providing space for Waverly to sit. “Not so much a rock star now am I?”

Waverly removed her sneakers, wishing she had painted her toenails, hoping Nicole was too upset to notice. “I don’t know. I thought this is how all rock stars lived their lives. Lying in bed when the sun is out. Eating ice cream for breakfast.”

Nicole moved across, resting her head in Waverly’s lap, waiting for her to stroke her head. “I can’t go back. I can’t.”

Waverly took the hint, moving Nicole’s hair back in soothing strokes, enjoying the sensation on her fingers, Nicole’s eyes closing, her hand resting on Waverly’s knee. “You’re incredibly talented. Everyone who meets you is telling you that. I would be the first to tell you to go be amazing. It’s just, I wouldn’t do that to you. I love you too much as a person to tell you to go do something that won’t make you happy. And, here’s me one of your biggest fans telling Nicole Haught not to go back on stage. This is so fucking weird, but right now, going back is not the right thing to do.”

“I just wish this wasn’t happening.”

“Hey, let’s go to Spain. Don’t think about making a decision until you come back. Whatever you decide there are people who love you, who want the best for you. We’re not going to stand by and let you destroy yourself. Balls, sorry my shift starts in ten minutes. I can stay. I’ll ring in sick if you want me to stay.”

Nicole sat up. “God, no. Sorry, you need to go. Will you come over later?”

“Sure. Unless your mom’s coming back. I could still do with more lessons.”

“She’s coming back. I love her, but she can’t cook like you. Don’t tell her that.”

“I won’t. Will you be okay? I can get off early.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

She went to kiss Waverly on the cheek, missing as Waverly sprang off the bed, suddenly flustered. Nicole realised she had overstepped a boundary, her neediness drawing on Waverly without working out where the line in the sand should be drawn. She needed physical comfort, Waverly’s touch the first real physical connection she experienced with another person since Shae’s death. 

She could feel herself being drawn to Waverly, even though the age gap was a problem, in her mind at least, even though she knew this was not love, her desire coming from a place of emptiness, in need of being filled, rather than a place of fullness, in need of expression. 

It would be unfair on Waverly to use her for her own needs, especially when she couldn’t offer her anything in return. She would never be that selfish.

Nicole’s mother arrived with a car-full of items, Frank in toe, his car filled too. Nicole wondered how long her mother was staying, deciding it best to leave her sort herself out. Having company would be good, even if it was her mother. Waverly returned shortly after four, having served the last customers in record time. More pie, she helped Nicole’s mother prepare the evening meal, Nicole in the den strumming away, the song she’d written for Waverly. 

She left without saying hi to Nicole, feeling bad, not wanting to disturb. Ward was already home when she entered, the TV blaring, the bottle of whiskey open, a third already consumed. She busied herself in the kitchen, letting the chicken dish she was making simmer while she practised more chords in her room. She decided she wouldn’t let him know she was going to Spain with Nicole. She would leave enough food prepared for the week, with instructions. 

He survived before on his own, able to dial a pizza in an emergency, or grab something from the store. Afterall, he was a grown man, able to take care of himself. He simply was too lazy, found the arrangement too convenient, knowing Waverly was there to feed him, do their washing, take out the trash, keep the place reasonably tidy. A lot to ask a kid of sixteen when Wynonna left, she took up the duties without comment, or complaint. 

Nicole sent a text asking Waverly if she could take a week off work, leaving in three days’ time. She called Nicole’s number, waiting to hear her voice. “I’ll check. It doesn’t give my manager much notice.”

There was a pause, as Nicole assessed the situation. “Do you think they’ll let you go?”

“Hope so. I really want to see Wyn. It should give me enough time to get pa’s meals ready, do the chores.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry. I totally didn’t think. Can I help?”

“You could take me to the store, help me buy everything. And, perhaps do the laundry.”

“Will you pay me?”

Waverly laughed. “At this rate we might just give up paying each other. Let me check with the café first. If I can get the time off, we should be good.”

“I wouldn’t ask, only if I don’t get away I’m going to go under again.”

“Look, I understand. I’ll do my best. Love you.”

“I…listen, what happened in my room. Fuck, I love you too. Friends.”

“Friends. Don’t worry. What happens in your bedroom stays in your bedroom. Okay.”

Nicole felt happier when she finished the call, so did Waverly. They both were trying to navigate a situation neither quite knew how to manage. The owner of the café was annoyed at being given such short notice, but understood under the circumstances Waverly should go see Willa if she was that ill. Waverly hated lying to her boss, hoping it wouldn’t get back to her, accepting if she lost her job as a result she would have at least got to see Wynonna. The first time in two years. 

Nicole picked her up after her shift, heading to the grocery store, paying for the entire shop. Waverly kept insisting it wasn’t necessary, Nicole knowing it was her who had brought this expense on Waverly, not wanting her to be out of pocket. The shopping done, they set to work cooking enough meals for the week, Waverly hiding the three bottles of whiskey Nicole was allowed to buy given her age. Waverly guessed if she left two out when she departed it would keep Ward happy for a day, or so. The other one she would keep in reserve, as a peace offering on her return.

Nicole helped with the laundry, changed the bedding and cleared away empty beer cans and glasses from beside Ward’s chair. She resented having to tidy up after this man, but knew if Waverly was to join her she would need to help out. _I can’t believe she does all this for that man,_ she thought, as she picked up Ward’s underwear from the floor of his bedroom. _This is beyond slave labour. And, she was cooking for me too. She’s his wife and she never complains._

Chores done, Waverly set about packing a bag to take with her to Spain, giving it to Nicole to keep at her house, along with her passport and the little money she saved up. She closed the door on her house for the last time the morning they were due to depart, not knowing if she would be allowed to return, no longer caring. She left her father a note saying she needed to visit Penn university, that if he needed anything to call on Nancy. She knew from her sisters the best way to leave her father was simply to leave. There would never be an easy way. No discussion. No negotiation. Simply close the door, hoping to be able to use her key when she returned. 

Nicole’s mother drove them to New York, the airport bigger than Waverly imagined, crowds of people moving through the space, suitcases and bags stacked on trolleys. A hum of activity, a never-ending movement of bodies going somewhere, arriving and departing through the city. A group of girls spotted Nicole, begging to have their photo taken. A young man wanted a photo and a kiss. A woman wanted Nicole to sign the book she had just purchased from the airport store. 

Waverly could tell Nicole’s mother was getting agitated, wanting to get away from the fans, Nicole putting on a brave face, smiling, kissing, signing, talking to everyone. A few fans gave Waverly a suspicious look, wondering who she was. She had been all of them, wanting a photo with her idol the first time they met, little knowing the pain hidden behind the smile. She watched, fully aware this was the life Nicole no longer wanted, wishing everyone would leave Nicole alone given what she was going through.

It actually sucked, Waverly concluded, living the rock star lifestyle. Every move Nicole made was recorded, judged, shared on social media. Being recognised everywhere she went, unable to be invisible, unable to slip into the shadows, always having to perform, be friendly, keep the fans entertained. Everyone who met Nicole assumed they knew her, or could freely have a piece of her, or any amount of her time. Except, it wasn’t Nicole they were after. It was Nicole Haught, rock chic. 

Nicole took a sedative shortly before boarding the plane, the stewardess converting her seat into a bed to allow her to sleep. Waverly looked on, realising this was how Nicole would have lived while in the band, getting on planes, getting off planes, travelling to and from hotels and venues. To an outsider Nicole’s life might have appeared to be the dream, except the reality was so far from the dream as to be a nightmare. Imagine being a rock chic, terrified of flying expected to fly constantly. The more Waverly thought about it the more she understood how lonely, how isolated an existence, the more she understood why Nicole and Shae would have wanted to cling to each other. 

At Amsterdam they disembarked onto a smaller plane, this time economy class, Nicole constantly approached by passengers wanting to talk to her during the flight. By the time they reached Malaga she was a wreck, spending twenty minutes in the toilets sobbing. She eventually emerged to more fans wanting to have their photos taken. It was the only time Waverly had seen Nicole refuse, her mother saying she wasn’t well and needed to get to their hotel. By the time they reached the house the word was already out she was in Spain, most of her fans guessing she would be staying at her house.

Their car pulled into the driveway, Nicole still shaken by all the attention on the short flight, vowing to never travel economy ever again. Wynonna greeted them at the door taking one look at Nicole. “Holy fuck, what happened?”

“Fangirl overload,” Waverly replied. “They wouldn’t leave her alone on the flight.”

“Nicole, seriously. Are you okay?”

Nicole shook her head, bursting into tears, embarrassed at being so emotional. Wynonna rushed to hug her dear friend. “Hey, I know. Big shock seeing me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m a mess. How’s the house?”

“A mess. Four big parties. When I say big parties, I mean me and a bag of chips. It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed that ugly face of yours.”

Waverly was waiting to hug her sister, dropping her bag wanting to be embraced. When Wynonna eventually got to her it was their turn to cry, the sisters hugging for ages, glad to be with each other. “You’ve grown,” Wynonna said. “Can’t believe you’re here. Can’t believe Ward let you come on this trip.”

“Told him I was at Penn.”

“Proud of you, baby girl.”

Nicole and her mother had entered the house, impressed by its cleanliness, Wynonna having spent two days scrubbing the place, buying in food and booze, not knowing Nicole was dry. Nicole headed to her bedroom, needing to be alone to recover, the others sitting by the pool, having deposited their bags in respective rooms, Wynonna preparing snacks, opening beers. 

Waverly returned to her room to grab her sunglasses, worried about Nicole, deciding she would check, hoping she was sleeping. Opening her door, she peered in, the sound of Nicole sobbing breaking her heart. She knelt before her, touching her face, her own tears coming. “This isn’t right. Nicole, I don’t know what to do to make you feel better.”

“Hold me. Please. Just hold me.”

Waverly removed her flip flops, moving round the bed. She crawled alongside, her body resting against Nicole’s, her hands going to her hair. For whatever reason, she began to sing, a whisper at first, the way a mother would sing to their child. “The first time, ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose in your eyes. The moon and the stars were the gifts you gave, to the dark and endless skies my love.”

And, the damn of emotion broke in Nicole. She hadn’t realised how much she had been holding back, but Waverly had felt it and sensed the only way to touch it, break through it was through song. The way to reach her heart. Had she known that was the song that meant everything to Nicole, she maybe would not have led with that one. But, they seemed to be bonding at a new level, where the lyrics and the music of a song were their new language.

“And the first time, ever I kissed your mouth, I felt the earth move in my hands, like the trembling heart of a captive bird. That was there, at my command, my love. That was there, at my command,my love.”

Nicole turned to face Waverly, the sadness in her eyes more than Waverly could bear. “Nicole, you need to tell Sony to go fuck themselves. You’re too precious to us. Do you hear?”

Nicole looked into Waverly’s eyes, wondering how this kid who had fangirled her was suddenly inside her being. Her hand reached out, touching Waverly’s cheek, then her neck pulling her in, the first time kissing her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lyrics to the song "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" are repeated in this chapter. I love George Michael's version. 
> 
> But, no one can surpass [Roberta Flack](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VqW-eO3jTVU)


	9. the Heat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Waverly come clean to her sister...
> 
> Music mood: [London Grammar: Truth is a Beautiful Thing](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UPcPtd3k-Qg)
> 
> .

It took Waverly by surprise, pulling away. “I…I’ve got to go. I’m sorry. This is…”

“Waverly wait, please. I shouldn’t have.”

“I want to. I really do, but not like this. It’s too soon.”

“I’m so alone. Please.”

Waverly returned to the bed. “Oh God, look I’ll stay. Don’t cry. I’ll stay. You can hold me. Nicole, I’ll stay.”

Nicole wrapped her arms around Waverly, burying her head in her shoulder wanting the world to give her what she was unable to give herself. “I shouldn’t have. Forgive me.”

“It was a moment, that’s all. If you’d done that, when we first met, I would have been even more in love with you, if that’s possible. I know you now, I’m not Shae, I can’t replace her, but I can be here for you.”

“Don’t hate me. Please don’t hate me. I keep fucking up. I keep making a mess of everyone’s lives.”

“No, no. Hey, it’s fine. You haven’t. I could never hate you. You silly bean. I saw what happened to you on the plane. How you survived with all that going on after everything that’s happened? It would kill me too.”

“I could handle it once.”

Waverly brushed Nicole’s hair back, wiping away a tear. “You don’t have to handle anything. Record deal, or no record deal, if this isn’t what you want then walk away. You don’t owe anybody a thing. Imagine if it was Wynonna. Imagine if someone told Wynonna what she should, or shouldn’t do.”

“It’s not the same. She’s not tied to an industry that doesn’t let you walk away.”

“Nicole Haught, listen to me. If you’re brave enough to kiss me, you’re brave enough to walk away from this crazy business.”

“I’m not. I wanted to before, but Shae said it would destroy everything we’d worked for. Everything she’d worked hard for.”

“So, you’d sign for Shae?” Waverly asked. “You’d sign the deal because of Shae.”

“I let her down. I should have been there that night. It should have been me on that scooter, not her. She took my scooter, hers wouldn’t start. We usually rode together in case one of us broke down, or needed to stop. I let her go. Waverly, I let her go on her own. That’s how selfish I am.”

“My God, Nicole. You can’t blame yourself. You’re not selfish. Whatever happened was dreadful, should never have happened. But, it wasn’t your fault. And, signing some stupid deal won’t change that. It will just make you unhappier. Look at you, is this how you want your life? Honestly, hand on heart, is this what you want?”

“I want…I want. I want Shae. I’m sorry. But, I’m lost without her.”

“I know,” Waverly replied. “I know you are. And, my heart breaks for you that she’s not here with you, going through this with you. I get it now. You had each other. Both of you understood what it’s like. I can’t even begin to understand. Even what happened flying here freaked me out and I was just watching it happen.”

There was a knock on the door, Wynonna’s head appearing, staring at them on the bed. “Fuck, sorry. Was wondering where you were. I was thinking of going for a walk, introduce you guys to some of my friends. I can come back.”

Waverly looked at Nicole. “Would be good to get out for a while. Do you want to come with?”

“I can’t. I look a mess. Go, I’ll be fine.”

Waverly hugged Nicole, whispering in her ear. “I love you. I won’t be long.”

She followed her sister out, neither speaking, Nicole’s mother asleep on one of the couches. Their walk took them along the promenade, stopping at one of the small bars on the seafront, Wynonna ordering two beers. “You’re old enough to drink over here. Salud. Cheers.”

“It’s weird drinking,” Waverly replied, tasting her beer, quite liking the taste.

“So, little sister of mine you want to explain what was going on in Haught’s room?”

Waverly stared out to sea, running her thumb down the side of her glass. “Nope.”

“I have eyes baby girl. That’s some friendship you have.”

“Yep,” she said, not meeting her sister’s eyes.

“What kind of lessons is she giving you?”

Waverly glanced over, her cheeks betraying her, her gaze to her glass.

“You know she’s queer, don’t you,” Wynonna continued. 

“Yep.”

“Waverly, is that why you’re here with her?”

“Nope.”

“For fuckety, fuck’s sake. I haven’t seen you for two years and this is how it’s going to be. Yes. No. You’ve been round Ward too long.”

“I’m here because of you. End of. Nicole was kind enough to invite me, pay for my flight. And, she’s kind enough to let you stay in her place.”

“Because she wants what’s inside your pants. I should have fucking known.”

Waverly glared at her sister. “She doesn’t. She’s distraught at losing Shae. And, the record deal. I’m helping her.”

“Right. Helping her,” Wynonna replied, with air quotes. “As in, helping her.”

“Are you saying I’m gay?” Waverly challenged. 

“Are you?”

“Just because I’m lying on a bed with Nicole doesn’t make me gay. Can we change the subject?”

“What’s the record deal?”

“I don’t know. Sony want her, but she doesn’t want to play anymore. Okay, she’s saying she does want to play, but only for Shae’s sake. And, Shae’s dead.”

“You’re telling me pug face is about to sign with Sony. She’ll be rolling in money. Fuck, I’d better be nice to her. Seriously, you’re actually serious about this deal.”

“Her manager came to Harmony to get her to sign. That’s why her mom’s here. You know she can’t drink? She was in a clinic for a while. Wish pa would do something about his drinking.”

“I remember when he didn’t drink. He used to take me and Willa fishing in his boat to give mom time with you.”

“Tell me he didn’t start drinking because I showed up.”

“If I tell you, you mustn’t tell anyone else.”

“Like who Wynonna. Who am I going to tell?”

“Mom met someone. It was going on for ages until Ward found out. She wouldn’t end it, so Ward did.”

“How do you know all this? No one ever said anything to me.”

“I heard them arguing. Ward telling her if she didn’t mend her ways.”

“Is that why she left? Wyn, she left us. She never loved us.”

“She did, but he pushed her away. You know she wanted to visit us, but he wouldn’t have her in the house. He didn’t want us loving her, not after what she’d done to him.”

“Our family is so fucked up,” Waverly replied, taking a sip of her beer.

“So, you want to tell me what’s really going on between you and pug face.”

“Nothing.”

“Do you want something to happen?”

“Wyn!”

They took a slow walk back to the house, Wynonna introducing Waverly to some of her friends who worked at various bars on the seafront, Wynonna evidently knowing a lot of people. Everyone smiled when they saw her, greeting her warmly, kissing Waverly on being introduced, inviting them to stay and have a drink. Wynonna declined every offer saying she needed to get back to check on her famous friend. 

As they entered the complex, Waverly saw Nicole in the pool, hanging onto the side, her arms stretched out, her head resting against the edge soaking up the last of the sun. Her eyes remained on Nicole as she walked towards the house. Nicole still looked lost, defeated, but she was in a bikini, a lime green one from what Waverly could make out, Wynonna grinning. “Spanish heat wave.”

Waverly thumped her sister in the back. “Fuck off. You’ll get us chucked out of here.”

Wynonna turned. “She is hot though. Do you think she knows how hot she is?”

“No,” Waverly replied. “She thinks she’s ugly, and you’re not helping calling her pug features.”

“Pug face. It’s pug face. She called me toad mouth.”

“Why toad mouth?”

“Because I can burp an Earp,” Wynonna letting out the gas from her beer in one loud belch, gaining a laugh from Waverly.

Nicole looked over. “Toad mouth. It was toad mouth. I remember.”

Swimming to the steps, she grabbed the towel on the ground, holding it against her body. Her eyes reached out to Waverly, hoping their friendship was still alive, spotting Wynonna alternating her gaze. “Okay, enough. Have you two?”

“No!” they said, at the same time, Waverly storming off, muttering to herself.

Wynonna waited until her sister was no longer in hearing range. “Spill. What’s going on?”

Nicole stood frozen to the spot, wondering what Waverly might have said. “I’m sorry. It’s not what it looks like.”

Wynonna approached, touching Nicole on the arm. “She hasn’t said anything. I’m guessing you’re more than friends.”

“No, we’re not. We’re just friends. I love Waverly. She’s sweet and kind, and actually takes the time to fucking listen, which is rare.”

“So, I’m listening.”

Nicole headed towards the kitchen, opening a beer, handing it to Wynonna. “I’m not like you. I don’t have the balls to go tell everyone to leave me alone. You know me. I’m still the same kid who cried when we found that injured bird.”

“I wanted to eat it. We could have grilled that sucker.”

“And, I brought it back in my jacket and took it to the animal sanctuary.”

“Where they ate it.”

Nicole grinned. “I’ve missed you. Why didn’t we keep in contact?”

“Because, you got all famous. And, did famousy things. I saw you on Rock of Ages. Best upcoming band of the decade. You made it. Remember when we sat around the campfire. You did it.”

“For what? I would happily trade all of this for the life I wanted.”

“A fucking lawyer,” Wynonna replied. “You’d give this up to be a lawyer. Which you must never repeat to Waverly.”

“You don’t get it. It’s all wrapping. This…this is nice, but ask me how many times I’ve been here?”

“Four. Guessing four. Five. Twenty times. No idea.”

“This is my second time. I have a place in LA I don’t even know where. Since the age of eighteen I’ve spent most of my time in hotels, or rented apartments. I went back to Harmony to know what a fucking home felt like.”

“Was it home?”

“For a while. Only a few bothered me, wanted my photo. I needed that. And, your sister was there for me. And, Robin. Jake not so much.”

Wynonna smirked. “Jake. I wanted him, he wanted you. And, your legs. He likes your legs.”

“Still does.”

“So, what are you going to do? I mean, if Sony are after you.”

Nicole sighed. “I’m fucked either way. I can’t leave without destroying the band’s chances of signing with Sony. I can’t stay without destroying myself.”

“Fuck. So, just leave. Join another band. Or, go save birds. Or, whatever it is you want to do. It’s not that hard a decision, if you only think about yourself. Be selfish for once. You don’t owe anyone anything in this life. Apart from me. You owe me this place as your best friend, who will tell you to your face, you’re not as attractive as you think you are.”

Nicole grabbed another beer. “I’ve been dry six months, but I need this.”

Waverly found the pair giggling by the pool, Wynonna flicking potato chips onto Nicole’s stomach. She watched, recognising this is what Nicole needed, her sister being closer to Nicole to get her to let go and relax. As much as she was forming a friendship with Nicole, they hadn’t grown up together, shared stories, gone on adventures, been there for each other. She couldn’t be Wynonna for Nicole. It hurt, but she understood. 

She returned inside, heading to the kitchen, her only use she concluded, prepare the meal, clean up, keep everything ticking along. Nicole’s lips were still on her mouth, a silky smoothness she didn’t expect. The headiness of their bodies so close she could see the spots on Nicole’s face, drinking in Nicole, Nicole’s warm breath against her face the moment before their mouths touched.

It was the first time another woman had kissed her on the lips. Did she want more? God, yes. She would have let Nicole continue, except she wasn’t ready to take on everything, all the craziness, that came with her idol.

“Ugly features wants to know who’s the prettier of us,” Wynonna said, uncapping two more beers.

“I don’t,” replied Nicole, accepting the drink from her friend, Waverly glaring at her.

“I’m not answering that,” Waverly replied, returning her attention to the vegetables she was preparing to the evening meal. “Actually, I am answering that. I am. And, could you two please help or, fuck off.”

The pair looked at each other, giggling, heading back to the pool, Nicole returning a few moments later. Her hand found Waverly’s back, feeling the tension, removing it quickly. “I won’t drink too much, I promise.”

Waverly fixed her gaze on Nicole. “If you drink, or don’t drink it’s up to you.”

Nicole put down the bottle of beer in her hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not your goddamn mother,” Waverly hissed, the pan telling her she needed to add what she had chopped.

Nicole backed away, leaving the bottle behind. “I’m sorry.”

“Nicole. We need to talk. But, not here,” she replied. “Can someone please help me with the cooking?”

Wynonna heard her sister’s cry for help, heading to the kitchen. “Let me finish this. Go rest. You had a long journey to get here. Haught, you can do the salad.”

Waverly left the girls to prepare the meal, heading to her bedroom, sticking her earphones in, picking up a book she’d bought at the airport. She closed her eyes, letting the music take her away, the book falling on her lap. She was fast asleep when Nicole’s hand gently woke her to say the meal was ready. Before she could stop herself she pulled Nicole towards her, their lips locking, Nicole realising she had more than a need to replace another, her knee finding the edge of the bed, pushing Waverly down. 

Waverly felt Nicole’s hand reach inside her top, searching for her, the touch forcing her to disconnect from Nicole’s lips as she gasped. Her own hands grabbed the sash holding Nicole’s top together, pulling at it to release the knot, Nicole assisting, letting it fall loose. She could feel hot breath on her neck, the velvety beer kisses driving her wild. The ache became unbearable, wanting to be touched, wanting Nicole’s hands on her.

“It has to be you,” she whispered, their bodies meeting. “You have to be my first.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Nicole replied, eyes telling Waverly she wanted this too. “I’ll destroy you.”

“You already have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> London Grammar are amazing. The lead singer has an incredible vocal range. She is open about suffering from stage fright.
> 
> If you've not heard her sing, it's worth checking out her range via the following video: [Hannah Reid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ENsiRSyY2uQ)


	10. the History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Wynonna go way back...
> 
> Music mood: [Will Young: Love Revolution](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jcv1vNqLVGg)
> 
> .

Wynonna could be heard yelling from the kitchen, telling everyone she was about to serve the food, her words piercing their moment. Nicole pulled away, shocked at how close she had come to ripping Waverly’s clothes from her body in a lust-fuelled haze. How she had missed physical contact, the silky smoothness of skin against her fingers, the intensity of another’s gaze, wanting her, needing her to satisfy.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t do this to Waverly. If she didn’t stop, both would end up regretting it, worse, wrecking any chance they had to remain friends. Her darkened eyes focused on Waverly’s face, her arms holding her body as far away as they would stretch, willing herself to remove any desire she might have for this beautiful creature. “We need to stop.”

“Why?” Waverly asked, her initial hesitation replaced by a growing curiosity. 

“It wouldn’t be fair on you.”

Waverly grabbed Nicole’s top, pulling her down, seeking her lips. “Why not?”

Nicole’s eyes closed. “Oh God. Don’t tempt me. Waverly, stop before we go too far.”

“I thought you wanted this.”

 _I do,_ she thought, _you don’t know how much I want to fuck you right now. This is wrong. Get a grip._ She pulled away once more, covering her body, finding the edge of the bed. “I’d never forgive myself if I did this to you. We’d better go.”

“Then don’t ever kiss me again,” Waverly snapped, a knee-jerk reaction to the sting of rejection. 

Nicole turned, eyes begging for forgiveness, knowing nothing she could say would be of any use. Waverly had every right to be angry, every right to feel she had been drawn in, only to be pushed away. _What a mess,_ she thought, _what a fucking mess._

Waverly sensed it was useless forcing Nicole to do something she no longer wanted to do. She stormed out, Nicole joining them at the dining table a few minutes later, her face pale, neither able to look at the other.

The friction between them was palpable, Wynonna guessing something had happened, deciding she would corner her sister later, ask her what was going on. Nicole’s mother was charming, oblivious, enjoying younger company for a change, chatting away to Wynonna, occasionally looking over at Nicole who barely touched her food.

The meal over, Nicole headed outside, sitting on a lounger, staring at her phone, utterly lost. She felt Waverly’s hand on her shoulder, looking up as tears approached. “Can I sit with you?” Waverly asked, Nicole moving along to give her space. “I’m not happy, but I understand. At least, I think I understand. Can we be friends?”

Nicole wanted to hug Waverly, too scared to touch her. “I’m so sorry.”

Waverly put her arm round Nicole’s shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry too. It was wrong of me.”

Wynonna came and sat on the same lounger. “Room for one more. Have you two made up?”

Nicole nodded. “I’m really sorry you have to see me like this.”

“We’re here for you,” Wynonna replied. 

Nicole’s phone buzzed, a message from Troy, asking her to call. “I’d better see what he wants. Probably wants to discuss the contract.”

Wynonna waited for Nicole to disappear inside. “Do you want to tell me?”

Waverly sighed. “Not really.”

“I know I haven’t been around for the last few years, but I’m here now. Both of you look like your puppy died. If you don’t tell me I’ll get Nicole drunk and force it out of her.”

Waverly glared at her sister. “I can handle this.”

“Fine,” Wynonna replied. “Be it on your own head if she throws up on you.”

Waverly huffed, checking no one could hear. “I thought Nicole wanted to,” she whispered. “You know. I wasn’t sure, but then I was sure. Almost sure. Suddenly she wasn’t sure. Now, neither of us is sure anymore.”

“Fuck. Okay, my advice, if you want it, which you probably don’t, but I’m going to give it anyway, she’s got to want you.”

“She doesn’t,” Waverly replied, finally accepting Wynonna was the only person to whom she could vent her frustrations. “One moment she’s all let’s hit the road, the next she’s whoa, brakes on.”

“Sounds like she’s scared. Don’t force her. Let her work this out for herself.”

“Are you okay with this?”

“You two are my favourite people in this world. Well, you’re second. Nothing would make me happier than to see both of you happy. If that means sucking face so be it. So long as I don’t have to watch.”

“Why am I second?”

“Cos, you ain’t got a house in Marbella. If you’d seen where I was living before.”

Nicole returned. “A friend of Troy’s is having a party at his place tomorrow evening. Wants to know if we’d like to join him.”

“I’m working,” Wynonna replied. “I suppose I could change my day. Would it be worth my while?”

“Oh, it will be worth your while. Dexter’s place is amazing. Owns several clubs in Ibiza. I can introduce you, perhaps get you a better job. Can’t promise anything.”

“Are you serious? I’d kill for a better job, any job that’s not where I’m working right now.”

“Would mean moving to Ibiza.”

Wynonna’s mouth fell open, taking a moment to process the offer. “Can someone pinch me?”

Nicole’s mother turned in early, the journey to Spain taking more out of her than she realised. Waverly followed her, sensing Wynonna and Nicole needed time together. Wynonna opened her fourth beer, raising it in a salute. “Here’s to friends.”

“To friends,” Nicole replied, lifting her mug of mint tea. “Who stick together, no matter what.”

“Through thick and thin. I’m the thin one by the way. Through everything the world throws at us.”

“Do you still think about what happened?” Nicole asked, playing with the teabag label wrapped round the handle.

Wynonna took a long swig of beer. “The smell of cut wood makes me feel sick.”

Nicole looked up. “Did Ward ever say anything?”

Wynonna shook her head. “He let the whiskey bottle do the talking.”

“If you hadn’t stayed there with me.”

“I wasn’t going to leave you with some crazy dude.”

The man was a loner, choosing to live away from society in a cabin deep in the woods surrounding the lake. Nicole and Wynonna accidentally trespassed on what he believed to be his land, except it wasn’t. None of it belonged to him, he simply chose to call it his land, his home, not wanting anyone to intrude. He spotted them near his cabin as they searched one afternoon for a new meeting place for the amigos, assuming the place to be abandoned. 

Wynonna was already inside the cabin when the guy grabbed Nicole, snatching her phone, dragging her to his woodshed. Her screams alerted Wynonna, who managed to escape through a side window, waiting for the guy to enter his cabin, trying to force the lock on the shed. She could hear Nicole sobbing inside, pleading with Wynonna to get her out, Wynonna wondering how. It was hopeless, the lock on the door too heavy to prize off, her efforts in vain. Her only hope was Ward, calling his number, praying he would answer. 

It went to voicemail, Wynonna leaving a frantic message, cursing her father, determined to save her friend. She called Laura, asking her to get help, telling her where they were. When Ward showed up with Nicole’s uncle she had never been more pleased in all her life to see her father. Ward dragged the guy out, forcing him to release Nicole, leaving him with two missing teeth and a broken jaw. 

Nicole never went near the woods again. Nor did a lot of the lake children, the urban myth quickly spreading of a monster who took children if they ventured too near his cabin. None were brave enough to attempt to disprove the myth, even though the guy was long gone.

It was the catalyst for Nicole joining the band, her mother preferring her to be in Scranton practising than hanging out in the woods beyond the lake where she would be at the mercy of someone who could do her harm. Nicole didn’t mind, the band taking up more and more of her time, but she missed being with her lake friends. They met up every once in a while. It wasn’t the same, she and Wynonna never really discussing what happened. Neither needing to, neither wanting to. What they went through together was discussion enough.

Nicole woke late to banging on her door. Wynonna wanted to know if she was up for a bike ride, Nicole telling her to go to hell. Wynonna shouted back that bike hire in hell was too expensive plus the tires would melt. The response from Nicole told her she categorically would not be going on a bike ride that early.

The sisters walked to the hire shop, Wynonna introducing Waverly to a tall handsome man with jet black hair slicked back, Waverly guessing Wynonna was more than friends with this guy. A long ride along the promenade they stopped for coffee at a small bar, taking in the view. “I think Nicole feels she owes me,” Wynonna began, gulping her espresso. “I get the feeling this is her way of thanking me for not leaving her.”

“The cabin.”

Wynonna nodded. “Can only imagine what it must have been like for her.”

“Why?”

“She won’t talk about it. It’s buried too deep inside.”

“She’s too sensitive for the industry.”

Wynonna laughed. “So, you do know Nicole. Thought so. Do you know what her favourite song is? It’s the one she sang to me while we were waiting for the cavalry to arrive. This will freak you out.”

“No!”

“Mum’s song. The one she used to sing to pa. I thought Nicole knew, but she didn’t. When she started singing it.”

“Holy fuck balls. Not. Oh, crap.”

“What? Tell me.”

“Nothing. Why didn’t mama keep singing?”

Wynonna rolled her eyes. “You know the answer. She was the prettiest girl in Scranton. Had all the guys after her, but she fell for pa and he couldn’t take the fact of her being up on stage, having all those guys looking at her. If he’d let her sing she would have been happy, but no he had to keep her to himself.”

Nicole was at Dexter’s when they returned, sorting out the music for the party, offering to DJ as a favour for a possible job for Wynonna. A quick swim, followed by a few hours sunbathing, they were ready for their night out, Nicole returning shortly after six looking exhausted.

Nicole’s mother was not in the mood for a night out, preferring to have a relaxing evening by herself, letting the girls go have a good time at Dexter’s. A quick meal, the girls retreated to their rooms, Nicole emerging in her rock chic gear, Wynonna and Waverly’s jaws dropping. “Fuck me,” Wynonna said. “Seriously, you can’t go out like that. You’re too hot.”

“You want that job, or not,” Nicole replied, winking at her.

“Want. But, this will kill everybody. Are you sure?”

“I know Dexter. He’ll do anything I say with me in this outfit.”

One of Dexter’s cars pulled up shortly before nine, the girls taking in the nightlife as they drove through the port area, watching as those out for an evening walk and a meal eyed their vehicle with a mixture of admiration and envy. Wynonna wanted to roll down the darkened window and shout at those looking at them they were with the Nicole Haught, Nicole warning her not to draw attention to her presence in case it led to the paparazzi swarming Dexter’s place and ruining their evening.

The car swept up the drive to Dexter’s house, one of the most expensive in Marbella. Set in the hillside, overlooking the sea, it was the pinnacle of luxury living, Dexter spending only a few weeks a year there at most, the rest of the time jetting around the world, staying at one of his family’s many residences, mixing with the rich and famous. He adored being around talented artists, collecting them like the artwork he hung on his walls, Nicole on his list of future acquisitions, knowing she wasn’t interested in him sexually. It didn’t matter. A prize was a prize.

A waiter offered them champagne, Wynonna taking two glasses for herself, winking at Waverly. Waverly took one, Nicole declining, searching for Dexter. She spotted him a little further in, talking with someone, breaking off as soon as he saw her, rushing to say hello. “You look amazing. Let me get you a drink.”

“Dexter, this is Wynonna and Waverly.”

Dexter greeted the sisters. “Lovely to meet you. I have the perfect job in mind, if you’re interested. Club Coco in Ibiza Town. I’m hoping it will please Nicole.”

“One hour’s DJing that’s the deal.”

Dexter laughed. “Call it two and I’ll throw in an apartment for your friend.”

Nicole hugged him. “You’re too shrewd a business person for me.”

They followed Dexter out onto the terrace, Waverly watching as guests stopped talking, looking at Nicole, recognising who she was. The desire in the eyes of men and women who came upon her was unnerving, Waverly realising they were just as much in love with her idol as she was, except she briefly had been closer to Nicole’s body than anyone in that gathering, apart from Shae.

Dexter couldn’t wait to introduce his celebrity friend to the guests, taking the mic from the DJ asking for the music to be turned down. “I have great pleasure in welcoming my dear friend Nicole Haught. She’s agreed to DJ for us tonight. I think you’re in for a treat. Nicole Haught take it away.”

Nicole had pre-loaded her selection of songs, waving as the guests whistled and clapped. She stood behind the deck, waiting for the crowd to fall silent. “Let’s hit the road, everyone. Here we go again…”

The crowd erupted as Nicole played the first song: [Nox Vahn: Brainwasher](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O5Vx74W10kY&list=RDO5Vx74W10kY&start_radio=1).

The sisters stood watching Nicole get the crowd going, a natural when it came to judging what to play. “She’s fucking good,” Wynonna said, on her third glass of champagne.

“She is,” Waverly replied. “She is the music.”

Nicole took a short break after the first hour, guests approaching, asking for autographs, wanting their photo taken, some wanting kisses. Waverly could see Nicole was exhausted, her smile never fading, occasionally looking over to where she and Wynonna were seated. There was little opportunity to be together, even if they wanted. She saw Dexter approach, Nicole going with him, returning ten minutes later energised, Wynonna shaking her head.

“That’s not a good sign,” she said, pointing her head in the direction of Nicole.

“She seems to have perked up,” Waverly replied. “She was looking really tired earlier.”

“Yep, she’s definitely perkier. She’s high.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured Dexter would be the one who lives in Villa Cullinan, rather than Nicole. 
> 
> Here's a video of an event held at the house: [Villa Cullinan Event](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKbhZOj0YQQ)


	11. the Hangover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wynonna knows how to manage Nicole...
> 
> Music mood:[Montero: Headspace feat Meliha (Anjunadeep)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N5Gh57cUKNwDee)

Nicole was buzzing in the car. Waverly had never seen her so animated, Wynonna smirking, letting Nicole go through the motions, keeping her mood up. And then she crashed, two minutes after entering the house, followed by a nosebleed. Wynonna suggested Waverly go to bed, leave her to deal with the aftermath of Nicole’s antics. 

She sat with her for three hours, listening to her ramble on, feeding her, getting her to come down gradually, wondering how her friend had decided this was the road to take. It was no time for judgements, or criticism, or parenting. What Nicole needed was love, mostly her own, in its absence the love of a good friend, who would never desert her when she was locked inside a situation, too terrified to know what to do.

Four in the morning, Waverly came out to find Nicole asleep on a couch, Wynonna in an armchair, head back snoring. She fetched duvets from bedrooms, covering both, leaving them to sleep, returning to her own room. They were still fast asleep when she went to check at nine in the morning, Nicole’s mum in the kitchen preparing herself breakfast, asking in a whisper if she had had a good time at Dexter’s.

Waverly filled her in on the amazing house, Nicole’s triumph as a DJ and Dexter. Nicole’s mother had met him once, considering him too much of a party animal for someone her age. She was glad they enjoyed themselves, taking her coffee and croissants out to the terrace, waiting for Waverly to join her. They sat for a while, talking about Harmony, Waverly explaining her plans for university and what she hoped would be her future. Nicole’s mother wished her every success, sad Nicole hadn’t had an opportunity to pursue a degree, understanding a path opened up for her daughter too enticing to refuse.

Waverly heard someone stir in the living area, getting up to check. Nicole was sitting up, hands holding her head, a few spots of blood on her tee shirt. “I need water. Quick, or I’ll throw up.”

Waverly filled a glass, rushing to place it in Nicole’s hand. She could see she was unwell, hands shaking, gulping the water, handing the glass back to Waverly. Falling back on the couch, Nicole closed her eyes, moaning it was too bright. There were no blinds to close, Waverly suggesting she go rest in her room, Nicole remaining where she was. 

Another two hours went by, Waverly having walked alone along the promenade, checking out the small shops, buying herself a souvenir fridge magnet. The sun was high, people enjoying a late morning coffee in the cafes along the seafront, kids playing on the beach watched over by attentive parents. She found a quiet café near Nicole’s house, reading the wrong side of the menu not quite sure what to order. A waitress came to serve, young, attractive, very attractive, smiling at Waverly, waiting to take her order.

“A coffee, please. Small,” she said, using one hand to indicate the size of a cup she saw Wynonna drinking from the day before.

The waitress smiled. “An expresso. Not an Americano.”

“Yes, I’m American.”

“I know. Americano. Expreso con agua. You prefer?”

“I guess. Whatever you think is best.”

“I think you,” the waitress replied, winking, each word uttered sexier with her Andalusian accent. “I will get you an Expresso, with some water to try.”

“Thank you,” Waverly replied, feeling her cheeks burn at the attention she was receiving.

The waitress returned, placing a cup with a shot of coffee at the bottom and a small jug of hot water. She waited to see what Waverly would do, Waverly looking confused at the arrangement. “I show you,” the waitress offered, pouring a little water into the cup. “You try for me.”

Waverly took a sip, wincing at the bitter taste, the waitress pouring a little more water in the cup for her. “You must tell me when to stop. Or, I keep going.”

“Stop,” Waverly said, trying the drink again. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

“I will keep my eye on you,” the waitress said, moving off to serve a couple who had just sat down.

Waverly was beginning to like Spain, its relaxed approach to life. Its sexy waitresses, definitely its sexy waitresses. She could get used to living in a place like this, envying Wynonna. Her coffee finished, she looked around, spying her waitress in the doorway, menus in hand smiling at passing tourists. She went to stand, the waitress hearing the chair move, turning to see if she needed her. “You go already. It is a shame. Perhaps, you come again tomorrow.”

“I might,” Waverly replied. “I need to pay.”

She handed the waitress a note, waiting for the change, watching as other customers entered, taking their seats, trying to decipher the menu. She thought of her job in Terra’s, how different it was to here. The waitress returned with a handful of coins and notes, plus a small card with the name of the restaurant on the front and a phone number of the back. “I am here each day to seven. We go drink after. Yes?”

“Yes,” Waverly replied, reading the name above the number. “Alicia.”

“Tell me yours.”

“Waverly. I might take you up on that drink.”

Waverly strolled back to the house, proud of herself. Her first coffee purchased in a foreign country and her first date. Wynonna was up when she entered, making herself lunch. “You look pleased with yourself,” she said, noticing the wide smile on her sister’s face. “What have you been up to?”

“Nothing. Got a coffee and a date. That’s all.”

“Wow. Quick work. Where did you go?”

“Along the front. Stopped at a small bar near here,” Waverly replied, pulling out the card from her purse, reading the name aloud. “Bar Eduardo.”

“Let me see,” Wynonna said, taking the card. “Ah, you caught Alicia’s eye. She’ll laugh when she knows you’re my sister.”

“You know her?”

“I sort of know her brother. The guy in the cycle shop. Max.”

“They do look alike. What do you think? Should I go?

“Hell yes. You’ll have a great time with Ali. Plus, it will show Nicole you’re too hot to ignore.”

“Ha ha. Hot. What happened to her last night? She looked dreadful this morning.”

Wynonna sniffed loudly. “I think Dexter gave her a little party powder to keep her going.”

“What? You mean…”

Wynonna nodded, touching her nose. “I think our girl isn’t as dry as she’d like us to believe. Reckon it’s what she’s used to. Free this, free that, free everything.”

Waverly tried and failed not to look shocked. She assumed when Nicole said she was dry she no longer touched anything that would alter her mood. To be told she was indulging in Dexter’s party powder was yet another side to Nicole she hadn’t expected, or wanted. Nicole staggered into the kitchen, still looking worse for wear, needing another glass of water.

Wynonna obliged, placing a full glass into Nicole’s shaky hand, waiting for her to finish guzzling its contents. “Waverly’s got a date,” she announced, proudly, beaming at her sister’s achievement.

The glass exploded on the marble tiles, sending shards and water everywhere, Nicole staring in disbelief at Waverly. “What?”

“I said,” Wynonna repeated slowly. “Waverly’s. Got. A. Date. With a very sexy waitress from Eduardo’s. Rather jealous, if you ask me. Alicia is stunning. Fantastic body. Knows how to party.”

“How would you know?” Nicole snapped, her eyes still on Waverly.

“Cos, I’m seeing her brother. Waverly’s holiday will go with a swing once Ali shows her some of her moves.”

“It’s not safe,” Nicole blurted, “going out on your own. What if something happens to you?”

“She’s in good hands with Ali. I could suggest we all go to Ocean’s, that way we can keep an eye on our girl. Make sure she doesn’t get up to any mischief.”

Nicole nodded, still reeling at the news. Wynonna handed her another full glass of water. “Go lay down, I’ll sort this out. You need to rest.”

“That was cruel,” Waverly said once Nicole had departed, helping pick up the pieces on the floor.

“Very. Did you see her reaction? I know she hasn’t gotten over Shae, went on and on about her last night. Thing is, she sees you. And, she’s interested.”

“She’s not. I told you, she doesn’t want to.”

“Oh, I think she does,” Wynonna replied, patting her sister’s arm. “She’s simply too terrified of letting someone new get too close to her again.”

“Anyway, I’m going to college. And, she’s…she might be jetting off somewhere with her band.”

“Yep. She’s going after that contract. Nicole is no fool. She’s exceptionally bright. Wanted to be a lawyer, like her father.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“She knows what the contract will mean financially. Whether she can keep sane is another story. I’ll tell you this, she went out of her way to help me get a job through Dexter, and an apartment.”

“Yes. God, she did that for you.”

“She knew what she wanted before she approached that Dexter guy and made sure she got it. And, I’m guessing she knows exactly how to get the best deal for herself with this new contract.”

“But, she doesn’t want to perform anymore. She told me.”

Wynonna rolled her eyes. “Waverly, I’ve known Nicole a long time. The one thing Nicole will never give up is the music. Shae’s death has shaken her. She relied on Shae to keep her out of trouble. Keep her focused. Tell me one thing, last night did she look happy, or sad in front of everyone?”

“Happy I guess. Then again, she does that with her fans. Puts on a happy face.”

“There’s happy. And, there’s happy. Nicole was happy doing what she was doing.”

“So, you reckon she’ll sign with Sony.”

Wynonna nodded. “That would be my bet.”

Waverly wasn’t entirely sure her sister would win such a bet. She had seen how emotionally fragile Nicole was, having to comfort her on a few occasions. Although, thinking about it, Nicole had never said outright she didn’t want to carry on performing. She also had never said outright what she wanted to do if, or when she left the band. It always struck her as odd Nicole turning up in Harmony, with nothing to do, nowhere to go. 

She went to her room to change into her bikini to spend the afternoon by the pool contemplating her sister’s words.

Nicole lay on her bed, allowing the previous evening to leave her body. _It’s just a date,_ she thought, unable to sleep. _I could get Dexter to come with us and some of his men. I’m not going to stop her seeing others. If this Alicia so much as puts one finger on her. No, let this go. I don’t own her._

She rang Dexter to thank him for the offer of a job for Wynonna, mentioning Ocean’s, suggesting they might go. “My darling, I’d love to. Won’t it be a little exposed for you?”

“A little,” Nicole replied, “but, if I’m with you I’m hoping not to be hounded. Great publicity for you too.”

“You read my mind perfectly. I so need you in Ibiza. Let me know when you’re going and I’ll clear my diary.”

“Thanks Dex. Owe you.”

Waverly had made herself comfortable by the pool, a generous layer of suntan oil on her skin, she soaked up the rays, listening to Nicole’s songs, humming the tune as each played. Wynonna made her scream by placing an ice cube on her stomach, which Waverly returned with a perfect shot to the back. Waverly was now upright, contemplating the ripples on the pool, undecided whether to dive in or remain cooking on the sun lounger.

They heard Nicole in the kitchen, filling another glass of water, Wynonna determined to drive Nicole crazy. She motioned to Waverly to remove her top, her sister shaking her head, not ready to go full European, especially in front of family. “Trust me, if you want Nicole,” she insisted.

Waverly huffed, doing what her sister instructed, suddenly feeling extremely exposed. She lay back on the lounger, really not comfortable with Wynonna’s games, wondering what she had in mind. She could hear Wynonna’s flip flops moving towards the house, Nicole agreeing Ocean’s might be worth trying.

“I agree,” Wynonna said. “Best atmosphere. Give our girl a good time. I’ll tell her.”

Nicole’s eyes followed Wynonna outside, her jaw dropping on seeing Waverly on the lounger, gripping her glass for fear of that ending up on the floor. Wynonna called to her to join them, Nicole’s legs unable to function, her eyes remaining on the part of Waverly’s anatomy she didn’t think she would see quite so soon.

“Haught, get out here and tell Waverly the good news.”

“I…I need to lie down. My head’s…”

“Won’t take long. Better coming from you.”

Nicole placed the glass on the counter, her hand shaking in the process, her mind a blur. Emerging from the kitchen she stood a little distance from Waverly, struggling not to give away her desire. “I’ve asked Dexter to come with us. He’ll give us protection.”

“Did you hear that Waverly, we’re going partying. Wait till you see Alicia move.”

Waverly opened her eyes, gazing over at Nicole, realising she was being tortured by her sister, realising it was working. She stretched, tipping her head back, her hair falling over her shoulders, an index finger trailing slowly down the middle of her body from neck to navel. “Could you put more oil on me,” she asked, picking up the bottle, holding it out towards Nicole.

“I…I need to go.”

“You don’t want me to burn do you?” Waverly said, her words drawing Nicole towards her.

Nicole took the bottle, sitting on the edge of the lounger, a small pool of oil in her hand. Waverly turned over, resting her hands under her head, waiting for Nicole’s touch. The contact was electric, the intensity of skin on skin almost too much for her to bear. She moaned softly as Nicole’s fingers brushed across her shoulders, running down her spine, circling and circling. 

She could have let Nicole do that to her all day, wondering if she should ask for her front to be done too. Deciding that would be beyond cruel, she thanked Nicole, who disappeared inside, leaving her water behind. Door locked, curtains drawn, she removed everything she still had on from the night before, allowing her hands to massage her own body, desperate for human touch, for connection. _I need her so badly,_ she thought, as her body responded to the rhythm dancing through her fingers. _I’m not letting her slip away from me._

Wynonna could hear the deep moans coming from Nicole’s bedroom, knowing phase one of her mission had been accomplished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are plenty of bars and clubs in Marbella, but Ocean's is one of the better venues: [Ocean Club Marbella](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qYkH2FQnpBw).


	12. the Hypocrisy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Should the world revolve around Nicole. Or, Waverly...
> 
> Music mood: [Simply Red: Sunrise](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Pnqx4yjIyg)

They arranged to go to Ocean's the next evening, Alicia amazed she had hit on Wynonna’s sister, Max agreeing to join them. Nicole was in an edgy mood most of the day, snapping at her mother for no apparent reason, apologising immediately seeing the look on her mother’s face.

Troy wasn’t helping, sending multiple texts asking Nicole to make her mind up about Sony, Nicole ignoring them, knowing if she let Troy dictate the pace of the negotiation they would all lose out. She had learnt a few things watching Rosita, admiring her finesse when it came to getting everything she wanted, apart from her. She would never allow herself to be seduced by her, that would never be part of the deal.

She had had a few close calls with her manager, one car ride in particular, Nicole buzzing from a performance in Tokyo, Rosita allowing the driver to take them on a detour to a secluded bar, buying expensive Sake, hoping to get Nicole to go with what she had planned. She drank half a bottle before Rosita showed her the massage room behind one of the screens. “To help you relax my darling. I’ll wait for you here.”

Nicole smirked. “I’m too wrecked to do this. Take me back to the hotel.”

“But, it’s paid for by the organisers of the concert. It would be an insult if you refused their hospitality.”

“If you don’t want me puking everywhere, I suggest you take me back.”

Rosita reluctantly obeyed, knowing if she forced Nicole to do anything it would have repercussions. Shae was frantic with worry. “Where the fuck were you?” she asked, as Nicole entered the room. “And, why didn’t you answer your phone?”

“Sorry, sorry. Engine trouble, fucking scary. You know I don’t have my phone on me when we’re performing. It’s here, somewhere.”

Shae pulled her in. “What’s that smell?”

“Sake. Sat in a bar waiting for the replacement car to arrive.”

“Smells horrid. Whose turn is it for a massage?”

“Yours,” Nicole said. “You deserve it for playing so well tonight. Crowd was wild.”

“I’ll never grow tired of all this,” Shae said. “Or, you. Let me get changed.”

Dexter’s convertible Bentley pulled into the driveway, Waverly a little more nervous than she expected. They had agreed to meet Alicia and Max in Ocean’s, Dexter having phoned ahead to tell the owners Nicole Haught would be with him and reserve the best area for her group. His men were waiting outside the house, ready to escort them into the club, fend off any pushy press, as well as fans who might want to crowd Nicole. 

He adored having her on the end of his arm, showing her off, watching the reactions of those around him as he paraded his prize. Nicole’s mother would be joining them, although not a big drinker, she needed to get out, spend a night with her daughter and her friends. She was in fine form when Dexter entered the house, offering him a glass of chilled champagne, leading him out onto the terrace.

“I think your mom has her eye on Dexter,” Wynonna said, sipping her drink, her tight blue dress definitely the best thing she had worn since Nicole arrived. 

Waverly emerged from her room, unsure the dress she was wearing was appropriate, looking for reassurance. “What do you think? Too short.”

“Definitely too short,” Nicole said, not wanting Waverly to show off that amount of leg.

“Perfect,” Wynonna countered. “Alicia will love it. Very sexy.”

“I don’t want to give the wrong impression,” Waverly replied.

“Have you got a hoodie to put over it?” Nicole asked. “It can get quite chilly later on.”

Wynonna smirked. “I don’t think she needs to worry about getting cold. Not from what I hear about Alicia. Should we be going? Don’t want to keep Waverly’s date waiting.”

The paparazzi were waiting outside the venue as the cars pulled up, flashes going off everywhere, shouts for Nicole to look one way, then another, someone asking her to pose, another asking her to wave in his direction. She obeyed, Dexter standing close to her to make sure he was in the photos. Nicole’s mother explained this was usual for events where Nicole was present, holding her daughter’s purse while everyone grabbed a piece of her daughter.

“This is surreal,” Waverly said to Wynonna, watching how Nicole had to perform for the press.

“And, it will only get worse when she signs with Sony. I can get you in, front row seat, but this is what you’ll have to deal with.”

“What does that mean? Front row seat.”

“The one thing I know about Nicole is she gets what she wants. Only child thingy.”

“And, what does she want?” Waverly asked.

“You.”

Dexter’s burly men cleared a path for their group to enter the club, the owners waiting by the entrance to greet Nicole, have their photos taken with her. Like Dexter, having a celebrity in their midst did wonders for the image of the club, guests flocking to see a rock chic in the flesh enjoying herself, hoping to get near enough to take a photo to say they were partying with an A-lister that particular evening. 

Had it not been for Wynonna, Nicole would not have ventured into Ocean that evening, or any evening, knowing what it entailed. All the hassle, all the attention. Sometimes not being recognised, not being famous, not having your photo taken over, and over, and over was all she wanted. 

Wynonna spotted Max near the bar, waving. “Where’s Alicia?”

“She’ll be here soon. Can I get you a drink?”

“I think Nicole has that covered. The management here are all over her.”

“Will I get to meet her?” Max asked, looking over at the group, hoping he would be allowed to join them.

“Of course. Follow me. Don't drool. She’s not as hot as she looks, especially in the mornings.”

Max followed Wynonna, standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders waiting to be introduced. Nicole was gracious, getting a selfie with him, instructing a waiter to supply drinks. Waverly wondered if Alicia would stand her up, looking nervously for her, Max reassuring her she was on her way. She emerged from the crowd ten minutes later, her outfit to die for, Waverly’s jaw dropping as Alicia approached their VIP area. Dexter’s men allowed her through, Alicia making a beeline for Waverly, kissing her on the cheek. “I like your dress,” she said, standing back a little, holding Waverly’s hand, her eyes admiring her form. “Muy bonita, so pretty. Would you like to dance?”

Nicole’s radar had picked up Alicia as soon as she saw Dexter’s guys stepping aside to let her join the group. Wynonna was right, Alicia had everything, including Waverly from the looks Waverly was giving her date. She’d wondered whether she should play dirty, get Dexter to have a discreet word with the club owners to not allow Alicia inside the club. She decided that would not be fair, also it might backfire spectacularly.

She approached, all smiles, waiting for Alicia to recognise her. Alicia smiled, her attention remaining on Waverly, not wanting to spoil their moment. “Hi, I’m Nicole. I guess you’re Alicia. Would you like a drink?”

Alicia moved her gaze from Waverly’s face to Nicole. “Hi, great to meet you. I’m a huge fan.”

“Would you like a photo?” Nicole asked, hoping to get between this Alicia and Waverly.

“I’m good. You must have many photos this evening. Waverly let’s dance.”

The look on Nicole’s face was worth a photo in its own right. Very few, hardly anyone passed up an opportunity to have their photo taken with her. She was left standing in the VIP area utterly played by this Alicia person. _She’s not having her,_ she thought, as she returned to the group. _This is so not fucking happening._

Alicia led Waverly out to the main dance area, still holding her hand, finding a space for them to move without cramping any dance style. It was also in direct view of the VIP area, Alicia winking as she spotted Nicole’s eyes bearing down on her. She had been warned by Wynonna not to be intimidated by Nicole, not to let her celebrity status spoil her time with Waverly. 

As the music carried them away, Alicia was impressed with Waverly’s moves, matching her rhythm, her hand on her hip, moving in a little closer with each new song played. Nicole was agitated, her eyes darting between those trying to engage in conversation and Waverly’s proximity to Alicia’s body. Wynonna sidled up to her. “I think Waverly’s going to remember Spain, don’t you?”

“I’m not happy with her dancing out there,” Nicole replied, watching as Alicia pressed her head against Waverly’s. “She needs to return to where we can be private.”

“Agree,” Wynonna said. “Do you want to go get her?”

Nicole was tempted, knowing if she put one foot outside their area she would be swarmed. “Can you go?” she asked, hoping Wynonna would do the decent thing, bring Waverly back to her.

“I think we both know she’s not going to come for me,” Wynonna replied, trying not to smirk.

“I hate you. You think you have me all figured out. Fine, I’ll go.”

Nicole whispered to Dexter, he in turn clicking his fingers for one of his men to accompany Nicole to the dancefloor. She made her way through the crowd, ignoring requests for photos, approaching Waverly, hoping to break up the cosy thing she had going on with this Alicia. Lost in the music, at first Waverly didn’t notice Nicole standing behind her, Dexter’s man telling Alicia to return to the VIP area. Reluctant, Nicole’s glare told her she had better obey, glaring back as Dexter’s man marched her away.

Nicole knew better than to make a move on Waverly in the middle of a dancefloor, wanting desperately to be able to feel her body move with her hands, wanting Waverly to dance with her as she had seen Alicia dance with her. 

It took her by surprise. Her world stopping, as Waverly turned, dazzling green eyes looking up at her, in that dress, in that moment. Had she thought it through she still would have done what she was about to do. The world be damned.

Her hands pulled Waverly towards her, her lips finding a new home, one she realised was calling to her. A gasp went through the crowd as they watched the scene unfold, a few whistles, celebrating Nicole capturing her prize. They remained locked in each other’s arms, letting all the craziness exist beyond their moment, Nicole finally realising she needed to feel alive again.

And, Waverly Earp made her feel alive.

Social media went crazy. Then the paparazzi. Their moment on the dancefloor hit the headlines within minutes, trending within hours as those in love with Nicole spread the photos captured by guests at Ocean’s. Nicole realised as soon as she did the deed their world would never be the same. She didn’t care. The thought of all the fallout from what she had just done nothing compared to having Waverly waltz off with some waitress, who happened to take a fancy to her girlfriend.

Nicole was nothing, if not territorial. And, Waverly was hers.

They returned to the VIP area, Dexter suggesting they might think about leaving given how much attention was now on them. Nicole refused, saying they were there to party the night away. Alicia approached, wishing Waverly good fortune, Wynonna escorting her and Max to the entrance. “Thank you,” Wynonna said, hugging Alicia. “I owe you.”

“For you. It is my pleasure. Nicole is a lucky girl.”

“I know. She just needs a little shove in the right direction.”

Wynonna returned to the group, extra security present given Nicole’s public display of affection. It was all getting too crazy for them, the group deciding they should make a hasty retreat. Nicole’s mother was still in party mode, Dexter suggesting they head to his house, ride out the storm, knowing their night at Ocean’s would need to be curated properly to get the most positive publicity. 

As the cars swept up the long drive to Dexter’s house Rosita was already on the phone to him, asking what the fuck was going on. He sent a text back to say all was under control. 

Nicole’s mother had a quick tour of the house, part of the reason she wanted to tag along with the group, sensing her daughter needed time with Waverly, asking to be dropped home. She kissed her on the cheek as she was about to leave, whispering in Nicole’s ear, Nicole’s eyes watering at her mother’s acceptance of who she really was. “Darling, go love her.”

Nicole took Waverly’s hand, finally realising all the bullshit she had to put up with being a celebrity had kept her from loving another. She would never have been so public in her affections with Shae, making sure their public displays of affection were minimised. Would she have ever kissed Shae in front of hundreds in a club? Never. She didn’t want the world to know what she had with Shae.

Dexter led them down to the party area, offering everyone drinks from his bar. Wynonna slumped on the seating, Max joining her, rubbing her shoulders, Nicole taking Waverly’s hand. “Can we talk?”

“I guess. You ruined my date.”

“Not here. Can you come outside?”

Waverly followed Nicole to the terrace where she had DJ-ed, Nicole taking her hand, leading her to a secluded spot. “You okay?” she asked, not sure how to move forward.

“Nope.”

“Where do we go from here?”

Waverly moved away, looking out at the view from the terrace, her back to Nicole. “I go on one date. One date and the whole world knows.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I ruined it for you.”

“Ruined. Ruined. We had to leave a club because you decided to kiss me in front of the world. If you want to kiss me, can you at least not do it when everyone’s watching? Fucking unbelievable.”

Nicole approached, standing next to Waverly, looking out over Marbella and the sea. “I’ve learnt to hide myself from the world,” she began. “I was told not to make it obvious who I loved, who meant anything to me. I played the game, and I still lost someone who I wanted the world to know I loved. I can’t bring Shae back. I can’t undo what happened.”

Waverly turned, looking into Nicole’s eyes. “I just want an ordinary life. All this, all the glamour, the attention, all the bull is too much for me.”

Nicole’s hand reached across for Waverly’s. “This is who you get.”

“No,” Waverly replied. “You’ve played that game, and it didn’t work. We play by my rules from now on.”

Dexter’s music suddenly broke the moment. [Simply Red: Sunrise.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Pnqx4yjIyg)


	13. the Hilltop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole gets her girl and something else...
> 
> Music mood: [Evanescence - Bring Me To Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i3MKTm-49uI)
> 
> .

“Your rules. Is that so?” Nicole said, electricity pulsating through her body, every nerve alive, dancing to a new beat. Waverly’s beat. “What are those rules?”

Waverly’s eyes slowly moved down Nicole’s body, stopping at the third button on her shirt. “If I say I want you to make love to me, you will.”

Nicole drew in a deep breath, eyes becoming darker, the ache between her legs intensifying. “What if I don’t want to play by your rules?” she asked, moving a little closer, letting the tension between them build a little more.

“Oh, you’d better. You’d better do what I say. Unbutton your shirt.”

“Here!” Nicole exclaimed, suddenly realising Waverly was being serious. “Can we at least find a room? Somewhere less exposed.”

“Like it matters anymore.” Waverly replied, looking around, searching, grabbing Nicole’s hand, dragging her to the side of the building. “Here.”

Purple spotlights along the edge of the terrace provided the only light to their secluded spot, the heady perfume of jasmine hanging in the air, the hypnotic chirping of insects, the absence of a breeze to remove the heat from their bodies. 

They were going to do it here, against the wall of Dexter’s house in the middle of the night. Their desire for each other finally exposed, as they would be, on a hilltop in Spain. Waverly was right. There no longer was any need to hide what each was feeling for the other. Nicole had seen to that, revealing herself on the dancefloor by kissing Waverly. There was no going back.

Nicole took a moment to take in what was happening. _I’m going to explode if I don’t touch her,_ she thought. _I’m too turned on to stop. God, those eyes. They’re drawing me in, and those lips. Oh God, Oh God, I can’t stop._

Her hand reached under Waverly’s dress, feeling her way along the top of her thigh, reaching the edge of clothing she desperately wanted to remove. A strong tug brought it down, letting it fall, Waverly kicking it to one side. Warm air hit her lungs as Nicole breathed in, erotic desire and the fear of being caught heightening the moment. “Is this what you want?” she asked, her hand hovering over its destination, knowing this would be the point of no return if she went any further.

“If you don’t fuck me right now,” Waverly commanded. “I’ll…I’ll…”

Nicole leaned back, eyes needing to take in the feast, hands gripping the end of Waverly’s dress, pulling it over her head, throwing it to one side. A banquet, Waverly wearing only an electric blue bra, high heels complementing its colour. It was almost too much, Nicole’s body trembling at the vision before her. “I need you,” she purred, as her hand returned to Waverly’s body. “I need you so badly.”

“Take your shirt off,” Waverly ordered. “Let me see you.”

Nicole obeyed, no longer caring they were undressing on Dexter’s terrace. She made quick work of her top, Waverly wagging a finger. “More. I want to see everything.”

“Everything!” Nicole exclaimed, “As in everything.”

Waverly nodded, folding her arms. “You’ll get nothing, until you do what I say.”

There had been many times Nicole had had hot sex, thinking it couldn’t be topped. What she was doing right there, right now blew all of those times away. Waverly had found a way to play her perfectly, knowing she needed that buzz of danger to feel she was alive again.

Standing back a little, she began unbuttoning her satin pants, moving her hips slightly to make the action more of a performance. She was undressing for her new lover, for the first time, not wanting to miss an opportunity to entertain. Kicking off her stilettos, she removed her pants, her hands reaching behind her back to unfasten her bra, letting it hang in her hand momentarily before allowing it to drop on the floor. Hands returned to her G-string, playing with the sides, wanting Waverly to beg her to remove the last item of clothing.

Waverly beckoned her over. “That’s my job. Only I get to touch you.”

Her fingers found Nicole, reaching down, Nicole gasping, letting her body be played like an instrument. Her lips found Nicole, a thirst quenched, a need for another satisfied. Except, it didn’t. It only made them want more. More of each other.

Nicole wanted those lips forever. She knew she was creating a mess, knew she was dragging Waverly into a life she didn’t want. It no longer mattered. It no longer mattered she had no control over the situation, or her lips, kissing Waverly over, and over, and over, as rational thought left her body, aware only of what she wanted to do to her lover. What mattered were those lips, those wine-red lips on hers.

And, there they were, on a hilltop in Spain, fucking like conejas in the middle of the night. And, it was beyond erotic, beyond amazing, beyond Nicole’s wildest dreams. The scent, and the taste, and the feel of Waverly. Her whole body alight, exploding along every nerve, bringing her back to life.

The sound of Waverly’s first orgasm was music to her ears, her fingers continuing to strum a tune inside the person she was falling for. Waverly’s head was on her shoulder, her hands gripping her arms, her body shaking. Nicole slowed the rhythm, allowing Waverly to come back to the world, letting her have this moment. As she withdrew, the deep moan from Waverly told her they had entered new territory.

The question was, should they find a bedroom, or continue up against a stone wall. “We probably need to go inside,” Nicole whispered.

“You already have,” Waverly replied, earning a laugh from Nicole. “I haven’t finished with you yet.”

“Oh God. I wondered what it would be like with you. This is not how I pictured our first time.”

“Me neither. But, I couldn’t wait. Everyone had you, but me. I could have fucked you on that dancefloor.”

“Would you have gone with Alicia?” Nicole asked, not wanting to sound jealous, coming across as completely jealous.

“Would it have mattered?” Waverly replied, knowing it would have, wanting Nicole to tell her.

“What do you think?”

“Tell me. Be honest with me.”

Nicole sucked her fingers, taking in the taste of Waverly. “I wanted Dexter to ban her from the club. I saw her hands on you and it drove me crazy. No one gets to touch you like that. No one.”

“I’m not a possession.”

“I know. But, if you’re mine, you’re off-limits to everyone else.”

“So, I’m yours.”

“You might be.”

“Nicole!”

“You’re mine. Okay. Am I yours?”

“Could be. If you fuck me again.”

“Waverly!”

Dexter had taken two more calls from Rosita, Nicole’s phone on silent, assuring her the situation had been managed. He wasn’t a huge fan of Rosita, finding her too blunt, too abrupt, accepting he had one of her prized assets in his possession, accepting it was down to him to not let what happened at Ocean’s run away from them.

Sony had seen the social media explosion, wondering what their future star performer was up to, agreeing this had more upside potential than downside. A lead singer showing the world she wasn’t afraid to reveal her affections for another woman played well for the direction they wanted to take their company image. One love.

Nicole could be their poster girl for music that transcended boundaries. It was too good an opportunity to miss. Rosita could tell from her conversation with Sony’s lawyer they wanted to play. She pushed back on their revised offer, saying Nicole needed time to consider where her future music career lay. Fifteen minutes later Sony were back offering Nicole twenty percent more.

Rosita calculated there was still room for negotiation, refusing the revised offer, telling Sony to get serious. Social media alone guaranteed Nicole’s antics at the very least another ten million dollars. She wasn’t going to short change her most valuable client, even though she was pissed Nicole had gone with Waverly. She parked her annoyance with Nicole for the moment, biding her time, recognising her job right now was to bring in the money.

She called Dexter. “Where’s Nicole, I need to speak to her.”

“It’s late. Can this wait till tomorrow?”

“Dex, Sony are breathing down my neck. Nicole’s PDA got a lot of attention, they’re creaming their panties to get her.”

“Fuck. Sony. I mean fuck. I’ll find her. Have you tried her phone?”

“Of course I’ve tried her phone,” Rosita yelled. “Dex, get her to call me immediately.”

He wondered where Nicole had got to, assuming one of his bedrooms would be in use. Wynonna was asleep on the couch, Max stroking her hair, finishing his beer. Dexter went on the hunt, checking bedrooms and side rooms, the pool area, the sauna, the Jacuzzi, cursing himself for having such a big house. He emerged on the terrace, calling out, returning inside, heading to a small room in the garage where he could view CCTV footage.

He played back an hour, fast forwarding through the various cameras, spotting Nicole and Waverly on the terrace, moving to the side of the building. Another camera picked up their activity, Dexter slowing the footage, his hand reaching inside his pants to relieve the building pressure. He knew what he had on Nicole could make him a lot of money, not wanting to destroy their friendship, knowing he needed to delete the footage in case one of his men stumbled across it. He replayed it one more time, committing it to memory before wiping the evidence.

He returned to the terrace, calling out, heading towards the spot where he knew Nicole would be. “Rosita needs to talk to you,” he said, wanting to see Nicole’s naked body in the flesh. He lit a cigar, drawing on it, slowly exhaling. “You know I have cameras.”

“Fuck!” Nicole exclaimed, releasing Waverly’s hands from above her head. “We find a room next time.”

Grabbing clothes, the pair dressed, emerging several minutes later unable to disguise what they had been doing. “Don’t worry, I’ve erased everything,” Dexter said, flicking the last of his cigar over the balcony. “Sony are after you. Ros is trying to get you more money. You’re hot property.”

Nicole turned to Waverly. “I want you in my life. Money, or no money.”

“You’re taking the Sony deal, aren’t you?”

Nicole took Waverly’s hands. “You are the reason I’m signing with Sony.”

“Don’t put this on me. You do what you want to do. Don’t drag me into this.”

“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t have the strength to continue, after what happened. I wanted to bury myself in Harmony, let the world go to hell. And then, you showed up, wanting nothing more than to be with me.”

“I wanted guitar lessons.”

“Right. Guitar lessons. And, someone to give your heart to.”

“I have college,” Waverly blurted. “I need my own life.”

“I’ll give that to you. So long as you promise to be mine.”

“I can’t. I can’t do all this, and study. I’d be pulled in too many directions.”

Nicole hung her head. “Then I choose you. I’ll give all this up, let the Sony deal go, let you go to college. I’ll get a job teaching music, play in a bar in the evenings.”

“No. You’d be wasting your talent. Nicole, I’m not letting you sacrifice everything for me.” 

“But, you’re saying I can’t have you if I go with Sony.”

“I’m saying, we have time. I’m not in the band, I don’t want to be in a band. I want my life to carry on as I’ve planned. That’s the deal. You do your thing and I’ll do mine.”

“But, I need you with me. I can’t do this on my own.”

“No. You needed Shae with you, because you were part of the same thing. We’re different.”

“But, who will keep me going? I’m not strong enough. It’s too crazy.”

“I realise that. And, that’s why I can’t be part of it. You need me on the outside to show you what normal is. To keep you grounded. Someone to come home to.”

Nicole’s lightbulb moment arrived, her mouth falling open slightly. “My God, you’re smart. And, incredible. And, I need to ring Ros.”

Dexter showed Waverly to one of the guest bedrooms, while Nicole spent the next hour on the phone to Rosita and the other band members thrashing out the best deal for them. Even Troy had to admit Nicole’s impromptu PR stunt had worked in their favour. He was the last to speak to her. “Look, we’ve had our differences, but we’re family, and family sticks together.”

“They do. I miss Shae every day. I’ll never forget her.”

“Me too. Hey, she would want this for us. For you. She’d be laughing right about now, knowing all our work paid off. We fucking did it.”

“She would. And, we did. We fucking did it.”

“So, who’s this Waverly? Can she sing?”

“Yes, and no. She’s not joining the band. She doesn’t want the rock and roll BS. She’s from Harmony. I’m giving her guitar lessons.”

“Right. Guitar lessons. Thought you used your fingers not your tongue for that.”

Nicole was about to say she had used her fingers, deciding not to reveal too much. “She’s great.”

“You well enough to return?” Troy asked. “I mean, after LA.”

Nicole paused, contemplating Troy’s question. “I don’t know. I fucked up, badly. I couldn’t handle Shae’s death. I didn’t know how to handle her death. So I blocked it out. But, it didn’t work. It made it worse.”

“I know man. I’ve cut back. Getting too old to do all that crazy shit. Hey, maybe we keep each other safe.”

Nicole felt the lump in her throat. “We keep each other safe. Love you.”

“Love you too, Red. Better go. Give my love to Waverly.”

Nicole found Dexter, hugging him, sobbing. “Where’s Waverly?”

“Last bedroom on the right. Congratulations by the way.”

“Thank you. This is a big deal for the band.”

“I meant Waverly. Think you’ve struck gold with her.”

Nicole beamed. “Platinum.”

She entered the bedroom, Waverly fast asleep, her hair tumbling over her shoulder. Nicole sat gazing at her, wanting to wake her, tell her the news. She decided it could wait till morning, which was fast approaching. A new day, a new record deal, a new love in her life. 

Making peace with Troy was also unexpectedly good. She lay down, too excited to sleep, texting Dylan to say she loved him, couldn’t wait to get back to the band, telling him she wouldn’t fuck up again. He sent her a text with hearts.

Waverly stirred. “Well, I’m waiting.”

“We got the deal. It’s awesome. Seriously, fucking awesome. We did it.”

“I’m waiting for you to carry on where we left off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still in love with this house: [Villa Cullinan: La Zagaleta, Marbella](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4OQ_IS84eq4)


	14. the Homegirl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before...
> 
> Music mood: Madonna [Erotica](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WyhdvRWEWRw) & [Jusify My Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Np_Y740aReI)
> 
> .

Nicole ran a finger along Waverly’s back, feeling the perspiration, her own forehead wet from the hours they shared since securing the deal. Hair stuck to the back of her neck, Waverly’s smell on every part of her body. _God, you’re beautiful,_ she thought, as she gazed across, _your skin against mine. Can’t believe we’re here, like this. So fucking glad we are. Promise I’ll look after you, Waverly Earp. My homegirl._

The reality, the complexity of their situation had yet to hit home for Nicole, enjoying the simple contentment of where she found herself, believing she had won every prize. The girl, the deal, the war against her own demons. She had everything. Temporarily, at least.

How any of this would play out was beyond what she was prepared to ponder lying next to Waverly. It was the first time in over a year she could breathe again. That was all that mattered. Everything beyond that could wait for rational analysis. 

Waverly was almost asleep, a soft moan leaving her lips at Nicole’s gentle touch, not quite believing where she was, not quite believing who she was with. What an evening. What a night. Memories replayed in her mind, the excitement, the anticipation of being with Alicia, the desire to let go, finally be who she wanted to be, enjoy who she wanted to enjoy. That in itself would have been enough for her. More than enough.

Had someone suggested she would end up kissing Nicole Haught in full view of everyone in a club in a coastal resort in Spain she would have laughed at the absurdity. Had someone suggested she would end up in bed with Nicole Haught, in a luxury house on a hilltop in a coastal resort in Spain, she would have thought them insane. A small town girl from Harmony meeting the lead singer of her favourite band a dream come true, playing their purple guitar beyond a dream. To now be lying beside her, having made love for most of the night was so far off the dream scale as to be, well unscalable. And yet, here she was naked beside Nicole Haught. 

If this was nothing more than a holiday romance she didn’t care. Except, she did. She really did care. In the short time they had been together, since she had come to know Nicole, she sensed something more than a passing attraction, at least she hoped they had something more than steamy sex, up against a wall sex, something more that might have a chance of withstanding all the craziness that came with Nicole. And, it was about to get even crazier.

It was the advice Wynonna gave her when they were alone Waverly hoped would make whatever this was workable, although she had her doubts, her sister telling her to be her own person, not get dragged too far into Nicole’s world. “Nicole needs normal people around her, independent people who know their own mind, won’t fall under her spell, let her get too carried away with all the bull that goes with the job.”

“It was crazy on the plane from Amsterdam,” Waverly replied. “They couldn’t see how stressed she was. Can’t believe she has to deal with all that.”

“She’s used to it. Remember. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t go to her head, or get to her. She needs someone who isn’t going to go all googly eyed.”

“Did at the beginning,” Waverly admitted, now embarrassed by her initial behaviour. “Before I got to know her. It’s hard not to, given who she is.”

“Given who she is on stage,” Wynonna emphasised. “Behind closed doors she needs to be herself. Plain old pug face. And, she needs someone who isn’t going to take any crap. You just need to stand up to her. Show her who the boss is.”

“Wyn, I can’t. She’s taller for a start. Older. More experienced. Happens to be famous.”

“She’s also the same Nicole who puked after eating six hot dogs in one go. Which, I told her to do. I think what she craves most is a normal life. The one she left behind to go be in a band. Just be yourself baby girl. That’s enough for anyone to love.”

She had little to offer except herself. The small town girl who learnt how to look after herself when Wynonna left, managing a house and a drunk father from the age of sixteen, accepting it was pointless throwing a pity party for one, knowing her only road out of Harmony would be through her own efforts. An older head on young shoulders, more mature than girls of her age, who giggled about boys and fretted about what to wear. Her brains were her ticket out of her small existence, her passport to a better life. 

She could so easily let Nicole carry her up and away. Any of the giggling girls would do so if they found themselves in her stilettos. It would be her quickest route out of Harmony, travel the world with a rock star, live the life, allow her desire to be a lawyer to fade. It would save her all the hassle of studying for however many years. That wasn’t her. She would take her own road out of Harmony.

Nicole headed to the shower, letting the water fall over her body, knowing as she entered a new day her life was changing, knowing what she was about to take on with Sony would be bat shit insane. To some extent she had been preparing for this moment since the age of eighteen, her father sitting her down, telling her to keep her head on straight, to call him if she needed advice. She was nothing if not her father’s daughter when it came to the business side of her life. Shrewd, knowing a good deal when it came knocking, hoping her father would be proud of her. 

What went with that deal, the insanely long hours on tour, the pressure of getting up on stage night after night, pleasing the crowd who had paid good money to see her perform, that was more difficult. Dealing with loss, dealing with loneliness, dealing with an empty bed, on top of all those things had screwed her up, her father unable to help when it came to matters of the heart.

Nicole returned to the room, wearing one of Dexter’s guest robes, tiptoeing out in case she woke Waverly. Dexter was on the terrace, his black robe barely covering his body, basking in the morning sun. “That was some night,” he said, puffing on his cigar. “Still, all worked out to everyone’s benefit.”

“I need you to look after Wynonna for me.”

“But, of course. She’s pretty, like her sister. She’ll do well at my club.”

“She’s pretty smart too. Don’t underestimate her.”

Dexter considered Nicole’s words. “I’ll need you in Ibiza to give my clubs a boost.”

“Fine. That is, if Sony let me off their dog lead.”

“Leave that to Rosita.”

Nicole stood, averting her gaze from Dexter’s partially exposed body parts. “I’m trusting you, Dex. If any footage gets out, I’ll set Rosita on you.”

Dexter laughed, patting his groin. “The footage is safe in here. Go play with your new girlfriend.”

Nicole headed to the kitchen, one of Dexter’s staff busy preparing breakfast. She grabbed a selection of food and two coffees, returning to the room, Waverly fast asleep. Sitting at the desk, feet up, gazing out over Marbella, she wondered if she should make an offer in on Dexter’s house given she now had claim to one of its walls. 

As much as she fought, her mind brought up Shae. _This place is so not you,_ she thought, as she sipped her coffee. _You would have hated it here, honey._ Their relationship hadn’t been perfect. The fights, the frustrations of working and living together all the time. It got to them. Fed on their insecurities. Sucked the joy out of their lives on more occasions than they would ever want to admit, locked them into a world neither could escape.

Part of the deeper guilt Nicole had to deal with when Shae died was the freedom it gave to her. She hated herself for the moments when that feeling reared its ugly head. She adored Shae, adored her passion for the band, her loyalty, her willingness to put up with everything so long as they were successful. If someone were to ask Nicole if she truly loved Shae, if someone had her locked in a woodshed, about to be chopped up for firewood, she would have spoken her truth. A plain truth, a sad truth. One, she would never have admitted to Shae while she was alive. 

She knew the moment her eyes opened to Waverly there could be more to her life. The band had been everything. Shae had been everything, except they weren’t. With a little distance, with a little perspective, with a little hindsight she could see how her life had been sucked into a world where everything revolved around them. She needed something, someone beyond the band to help her get through the next part of her journey. She just hoped Waverly would be strong enough, hoped Waverly would stay for the ride. 

Waverly smelt the coffee, turning over, seeing Nicole by the window. “Hey, tell me.”

“I feel free,” Nicole said, her eyes remaining on the view from their window.

“Here.”

“With you.”

“I could do with that coffee.”

Nicole walked over with a cup, watching as Waverly sat up, the cover falling from her, allowing Nicole to see what she had seen first by the pool. “God, you’re beautiful,” she said, her hand reaching out to touch that which was on display.

“Fuck, careful. I nearly spilt my coffee.”

“I’m thinking of buying a place in Ibiza. Let Wynonna stay there.”

“You really don’t need to,” Waverly replied. “She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”

“This is for me. Us. I want us to have somewhere to go that’s ours.”

Waverly placed the coffee cup on the bedside table, drawing her knees up, hugging them. “This was great, really. Really great.”

Nicole received the words, like arrows piercing her armour. “That’s not what you say after making love all night. I’m not some fucking guitar.”

Reality Check #1: Waverly’s shocked face told her she had overreacted. Waverly desperately tried to explain. “No, I meant…I. Nicole, this is all too much. This is too much. Too soon. Don’t be mad at me. Please, not like this.”

“Sorry, sorry. Waverly. I’m jittery that’s all.”

“I…I don’t want to get in your way,” she managed to say, resting her head on her arms, unable to look at Nicole.

“Oh, my love, I’m sorry. You won’t. I promise to make this work.”

“I know you will. But, how can you? How?”

Nicole hesitated, watching her pop-up perfect world deflate before her eyes. “I…I…I don’t know. I’ll figure it out. I’ll figure it out.”

Waverly looked up, wanting Nicole to hug her, not able to bring herself to ask. “Did we rush this?”

“No,” Nicole replied, knowing that was a lie. “Hey, you are the best thing to have ever entered my life. Look at me, Waverly Earp. You are here with me because it’s right. We want each other. That’s good. This is good.”

Nicole’s phone rang, her mother. “Darling, I don’t want to alarm you, but the house is surrounded by men with cameras. I wouldn’t come back right now.”

“Fuck. Sorry, thanks. Are you okay there?”

“I’m fine. I’m sunbathing topless. If they take a photo of me it will serve them right.”

“Can you please put something on? For me. Do I stay here?”

“I think that would be best my darling.”

“What’s wrong,” Waverly asked. “Is everything okay?”

Nicole was dialling Rosita. “Nope. This is where the shit gets real. I need Ros to get us out of here.”

“Nicole, what’s wrong?”

“They’re outside the house. Fucking low life press. If they see us returning we’ll be swarmed. I need to get mom over here. Hey, Ros…”

Waverly listened as Nicole talked with her manager, agreeing they would fly to Ibiza, stay at her private house till the storm calmed, fly back to America once Sony got their wheels in gear.

“How long?” Waverly asked, as Nicole finished her call. “How long in Ibiza?”

“A few days. A week tops.”

Waverly shook her head. “I have work. Pa will wonder where I am. I can’t keep lying to everyone.”

Nicole returned to the edge of the bed, her hand resting on Waverly’s ankle. “A little late for that. I reckon you’re not going back to Harmony for a while.”

Reality Check #2: “Nicole, seriously, I can’t go with you. Whatever is happening with Sony, you need to keep me out of this.”

“It’s only for a few days. I promise. Sony will handle this.”

Waverly jumped out of bed. “Where’s Wyn. I need to speak to her.”

“No idea. Waverly, wait. We go together.”

Waverly searched for her clothes, Nicole handing her a robe from the bathroom, the pair heading off in search of Wynonna. She was still in the party area, fast asleep, a duvet over her, Max spooning her, snoring. Waverly shook her sister earning a snort. “Wyn, wake up. We’re in trouble.”

“I didn’t take the ashtray,” Wynonna mumbled. “Nothing to declare.”

“Wyn, this is serious. We have to leave.”

Wynonna opened her eyes. “What time is it?”

Waverly looked at Nicole, who checked her phone. “Seven.”

“In the morning,” Wynonna qualified. “See you this evening.”

Waverly shook her sister again. “Wyn, the press are camped outside Nicole’s house. Because of Ocean’s. We need to go.”

Wynonna sat up, Max snorting loudly at the abrupt movement. “Go where?”

“Ibiza,” Nicole replied. “Rosita’s place.”

“I can’t go. I need to pack up here. Can I follow?”

Nicole nodded. “I’ll get my mother to close up the house. Don’t go back there for a few days.”

“Seriously, Nicole. Where the fuck am I supposed to go?”

“You could stay with me,” Max offered, pulling Wynonna down. “I will protect you from the bandidos.”

They left Wynonna to be defended by Max, collecting their clothes, Dexter driving them to Malaga airport. “I’ll join you in a few days. So excited for you.”

Nicole kissed him on the cheek. “Keep my mother safe, and keep Wynonna out of trouble. Love you.”

Dexter winked. “Love you too, my darling. See you soon.”

The heat of the runway took Waverly’s breath away, walking out to a private plane Rosita had hired for their escape. She really needed a change of clothes, her own clothes, everything she brought with her to Spain. Nicole reassured her it would all arrive, holding her hand as the plane took off, heading to a new destination, a new home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's interested, this article points to the underlying theme of this story: [Dangerous Occupation](http://www.stuff.co.nz/entertainment/music/8110698/Rock-n-roll-a-dangerous-occupation)
> 
> This is where they are heading to in Ibiza: [Hideaway](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XpHB0EKO6ic)


	15. the Hideaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole and Waverly flee the press, but they could be the least of their worries...
> 
> Music mood: [ALPHA 9: Before The Dawn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHEGx6xu8J0)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the eve of Wynonna Earp, Season 4 airing, I'm buzzing. 
> 
> To think we fought long and hard to get this show another season...personally, I'm in it for another 200 seasons...yes, yes, I know. Not enough time to watch all those shows and read fan fic...!
> 
> Here's to everyone who loves the show...
> 
> .

Waverly looked out over the Mediterranean Sea as her life changed around her. The buzz of getting on a private plane short-lived as the reality of the situation flooded over her. She was now part of Nicole’s life, whether she wanted to be, or not. She glanced over at Nicole, who looked even more stressed, now knowing how much she hated flying, the turbulence on a smaller aircraft not doing anything to calm her nerves. 

Waverly’s phone buzzed, a message from Wynonna asking how she was. She replied, saying she was thinking of phoning Ward to explain what was going on. Wynonna cautioned not to say anything just yet, advising her to let things calm down before speaking to their father. She knew what he could be like, not wanting Waverly upset if he had been drinking. She wanted to be there with her when they broke the news of where Waverly really had been for the past few days.

He was none the wiser, going about his own business, not involved in social media, not up on rock bands, no one bothering to come to his door to inform him. The world outside Harmony could have been obliterated and he would be oblivious to it. Others in the town were aware, Waverly’s boss at Terra’s in particular had been shown all the social media frenzy by her thirteen year old daughter. 

She liked Waverly, annoyed at having been deceived, deciding to let Waverly come to her to apologise, perhaps keep her job. There were few in Harmony who worked as hard as her, which was in Waverly’s favour. Still, she had lied. And, there was the other matter of having kissed a woman in public. She was no prude, but she was aware of reputation, especially in a place as small as Harmony. 

Robin punched the air when he saw Nicole’s name trending. The photos of her kissing Waverly and the short video someone managed to capture of the moment confirming what he assumed would eventually happen between them. Nicole liked pretty girls and Waverly fitted that image perfectly. He knew they would look good together, Jeremy making the same remark after meeting his idol for the first time, sensing there was an easy chemistry between Nicole and Waverly. Something clicking. 

Nicole seemed protective of her only student, her eyes checking on her frequently as she spoke with Jeremy about the industry, encouraging Waverly to take over the vocals on one of her songs, praising her on how well she sang. All very cosy, Jeremy concluded, Robin telling him later Nicole had no idea Waverly was crushing on her.

“Perhaps,” Jeremy replied, but Nicole is interested. “Did you see she handed her the pie first, went back for a fork for her before she served us. She’s on her radar, even if she doesn’t know it herself.”

“She’s still cut up about Shae,” Robin replied. “Everyone liked Shae. Had this laid back attitude to life, took everything in her stride. We were in the same school, Dylan was in my class. Waverly’s sister thinks she was the one who got her into the band. It was me who told Nicole they were looking for new members.”

“Wow, so you were the one who got her into the band. That’s really cool.”

“Nicole got herself into the band,” Robin corrected. “I simply showed her the poster Shae put up asking if anyone wanted to join them.”

“Still cool.”

“I guess. I also guessed once Nicole met Shae she would be interested. And, I’m guessing it won’t be long before Nicole makes a move on her student.”

Nicole caught Waverly looking at her. “You okay?”

Waverly forced a smile. She wasn’t okay, wishing this wasn’t happening, wishing she could turn back the clock to before the club, although that would mean not having sex with Nicole. That part she enjoyed. The way Nicole touched her, responded to her, sensed what she wanted intuitively. There was something to be said for having an older, more experienced lover, a lover receptive enough, creative enough to do what she had done with her body. 

She trembled at the memory of the moment Nicole first brought her body alive, the slow rhythm of fingers gently building to a blissful release. When her idol knelt before her, she could have passed out, she nearly did after Nicole introduced her to her tongue. If her fingers were good, her tongue was sublime. It’s one thing to watch videos at night in the privacy of a bedroom, Waverly wondering what it might be like to have someone do what others were doing in front of a camera. She now knew. My God, she knew.

“I’m okay,” Waverly replied, squeezing Nicole’s hand. “You okay?”

“Nope. I’m sorry about all this. I’m sorry I’ve fucked up your life. I’m sorry we didn’t get to try out another wall at Dexter’s.”

“Are you reading my mind?”

“No, why? Oh. I mean it would help relax me.”

“What here?”

Nicole winked. “Part of the fun of flying on a private plane.”

“But, there’s a steward over there,” Waverly whispered, pointing her head in his direction.

He looked up, assuming they wanted something, approaching, smiling. “More drinks?”

“Could you give us half an hour? I have some business to discuss with my partner.”

“Certainly, I’ll be in the cockpit. Buzz if you need anything.”

Nicole waited for the door to close, turning to Waverly. “Let’s have that discussion shall we.”

It was the second time Nicole had knelt before her, the motion of the plane, the motion of Nicole’s tongue discussing business on her, sending her over the edge faster than she thought possible. She tried holding back, gripping the armrests as Nicole worked her magic, trying not to make too much noise. The plane banked as she came, Nicole’s hand on her stomach as she bucked in the seat. This part of the jet set lifestyle she could get used to. 

The pilot announced they were starting their descent into Ibiza, suggesting they fasten their seatbelts. There wasn’t enough time for Waverly to return the compliment to Nicole, kissing her hand, promising to have a business discussion when they reached Rosita’s house. She desperately needed new clothes, new briefs, hoping her bags turned up sooner rather than later. 

A car was waiting for them at the airport, darkened windows allowing them privacy as they left the runway. “That’s good,” Nicole said, as she scanned the area. “No paparazzi, which hopefully means they’ve not sussed we’re here.”

“How will I get back home?” Waverly asked, not wanting to go just yet, wanting to know how this was going to play out back in Harmony.

“We’ll lie low here for a few days, head home when social media moves on. I’ll get you back. I promise.”

“It’s probably got back to pa. Oh, fuck and my boss. I’m probably out of a job, and a home.”

“Hey, let’s worry about things one day at a time. I’ll be there with you in Harmony. If necessary, you can stay with me, if Ward let’s you. Mind you, it’s not down to him. It’s what you want. And, as for a job, you’re leaving for college soon.”

“Oh fuck, college too. So much for fitting in, not standing out. And, I need that job. I’m not rolling in money.”

“We’ll sort everything out,” Nicole said. “I’m not even sure I can go back to Harmony right now. The house isn’t private enough. Not for the press. You may need to tell your father to keep his mouth shut if anyone wants to talk to him about us.”

Waverly looked out the window as they drove across the island. She didn’t want to tell Nicole she would take Wynonna’s advice over hers. She trusted Nicole, knew she was right about Ward, but Wynonna knew what he was like better than herself. She needed her sister with her when she spoke to him, told him what she wanted in her life, who she wanted in her life.

The car swept up a long driveway, pulling up outside another modern house, not as big as Dexter’s, still expensive looking. Nicole jumped out, waiting for Waverly to exit the car. “So this is what Rosita’s place looks like. Not surprised given how much she takes from us and the other bands she manages.”

Waverly followed Nicole in, a housekeeper greeting them, explaining she was there to provide whatever they wanted. Waverly was about to say new briefs, deciding she could wait a few hours more. Nicole whispered something in the housekeeper’s ear, the woman smiling, turning to Waverly. “I will return later to prepare a meal. I hope you enjoy Cana Rosita.”

She closed the front door behind her, the sound of a car starting, driving away, a peace descending over the house. Nicole took Waverly’s hand, walking her through the rooms, the pair finding their way. “I’m exhausted,” Nicole said, heading upstairs, assessing each of the bedrooms. Finding the largest one, she gazed out over the pool. “I could do with a swim, but I need to rest.”

She began removing her clothes, hopping on the bed, head resting on her hands. Waverly wasn’t sure if Nicole wanted to be left alone, or for her to join her in bed. “I’ll go check out the pool,” she said, hoping to get clarity. 

“I thought you were going to talk business with me,” Nicole replied, opening her eyes. “Did you have something important you wanted to tell me?”

Waverly looked confused. “No, I don’t think so.”

Nicole moved one hand slowly down her body, bringing it to rest between her legs. “Very important business.”

“I thought you were tired,” Waverly remarked. 

“I am. Very, very tired,” she said, letting her hand find a gentle rhythm. “Very, very tired.”

A soft moan left her lips, Waverly becoming aroused at the sight of Nicole, stripping as fast as she could, hopping on the bed. “Then allow me to do that, if you’re very, very tired.”

They were grateful they had the house to themselves, falling asleep in each other’s arms as the afternoon wore on. The front door closing woke Nicole, annoyed the housekeeper had returned, hoping she would leave them alone. The door to the bedroom opened, Rosita’s eyes on them in her bed. “I see you’ve made yourself at home. Congratulations on getting Sony to budge on the deal. If I’d known all it took was to put a tongue down someone’s throat I would have offered darling.”

Waverly emerged from under the covers, glaring at Rosita. “Hello, I’m Waverly.”

Rosita eyed her competition. “Glad to finally meet you. I’m guessing school’s broken up for the summer.”

“Eighteen Ros. She’s eighteen. Going to college to study law.”

“And, how’s that going to work out for you my darling? Dating a college student with you on tour.”

“None of your business,” Nicole snapped. “It’ll work out just fine.”

Rosita rolled her eyes. “Fine. If you say so. Sony are on their way. I suggest you put some clothes on.”

Rosita closed the door. “What the actual fuck?” Waverly said, looking at Nicole. “She accused me of being too young.”

“I think she’s just pissed you get all this and she doesn’t.”

“What? Tell me, she’s not after you.”

“She’s after me. Tried it on several times. Shae had a blazing row with her once when she caught her trying to undress me.”

“What? You let her.”

“I didn’t let her. I was too wasted. Thought she was Shae.”

Waverly was shaking her head. “What have I got involved with? There’s me worried you’d go off with another fan and your manager is the one I should be more worried about.”

Nicole pouted. “So, you do like me. You’re even sexier when you’re angry. I could do with a little more relaxing.”

“Is that all you think about? I’m halfway round the world, no clothes, no idea what’s happening, and all you want to do is fuck.”

Reality check #3: Nicole sat up, realising she wasn’t handling the situation, or Waverly particularly well. “Rosita is not my type. I’m with you, end of. I need you in my life, not some rabid bitch who fights for me and the band across the negotiating table.”

“You’re not with me, Nicole. We’ve had sex, a lot of sex. More sex than I knew was possible. But, don’t for one minute think you own me. I make my own way, you hear.”

“God, now I’m really turned on. Five minutes, I’ll show you my little trick. You’ll be screaming my name.”

“Fuck off,” Waverly shouted, getting up. “Seriously, fuck off. This isn’t a game. My whole life is screwed and all you can do is this. Hey, it’s alright Waves, just come to bed, everything’s fine. It’s not. It’s not fine. It’s not…”

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” Nicole said, jumping out of bed, hugging Waverly, letting her release her emotions. “Ros is testing you. And, me. She’s sharp, she’s hoping to drive a wedge between us. She wants this. Let’s go downstairs, get something to eat.”

“And, I want my clothes. It’s gross having to wear the same briefs this long.”

“Ros probably has some you can borrow,” Nicole suggested, before realising that wasn’t such a sensible suggestion. Waverly’s scream told her she needed to think before she opened her mouth in future.

 _God, this is so fucked up,_ she thought, as she dressed. _Just hold it together. Everything will be fine. I can make this work. I have to make this work. I need to get high. Fuck can’t, Sony. Okay, after Sony._

Rosita was fixing herself a drink as Waverly stormed downstairs. She glared at Nicole’s manager, who simply raised her glass. “Welcome to our world, sweetie.”

Nicole found Waverly by the pool, her phone in her hand, holding back the tears. “I want to go home.”

“We will. Just let this blow over.”

“I don’t want to be here. Not with her.”

Nicole stormed inside. “If you say one more fucking word to Waverly, I walk. She’s out of bounds. Be nice, or I’ll tell Sony to go fuck themselves. Do you understand?”

“You’ve known her how long?”

“Do you understand?”

“She’s too young for you. And, by the sounds of it too emotional for this business.”

“She’s old enough to know a bitch. Apologise to her. Second thoughts. Go fuck yourself.”

“That’s her job, clearly.”

Nicole snatched the glass out of Rosita’s hand, hurling it across the room. “Shae was right. She fucking knew you are nothing without me.”

“You’re right,” Rosita replied, picking up a cloth, heading towards the shattered glass and whiskey running down her precious white wall. “I am nothing without you. You could have me, all this. But, you choose to go with a kid.”

“She’s not a fucking kid,” Nicole screamed. “She’s not a fucking kid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toyed with several different videos but love this story by Alice Cooper: [Shooting Elvis](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwRLvPj82jw)


	16. the Hostess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rosita needs to watch her tongue...
> 
> Music mood: [David Guetta: Just a Little More Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e72Y5u-r3u8)
> 
> .

Nicole returned to Waverly. “We are not staying here. I’ve a good mind to tear up the contract in front of Sony. She’s not treating you like that.”

“I could do with my clothes,” Waverly replied, having calmed down. “We could wait till our bags arrive. And, Wynonna.”

“I’ll get us a hotel. Or, Sony can get us a hotel. Fuck it, I’ll get us a hotel. And, clothes. And, hot dogs.”

Waverly smiled. “You and your hot dogs. I’m guessing you’re hungry.”

“Too angry. Although, I am feeling a little hungry.”

Rosita approached, another glass in her hand. “We got off on the wrong foot. Waverly, I apologise for my rudeness. It was uncalled for, especially as you’re a guest here.”

“We’re not staying,” Nicole snapped. 

“I understand. Look, I have a separate accommodation for guests. My mother to be precise. It will give you privacy, allow you to come and go as you please. Although, I suggest you don’t venture anywhere too populated just yet.”

“Thank you,” Waverly replied. “Nicole, what do you say? It would save us having to find somewhere.”

Nicole huffed. “Don’t ever call Waverly a kid again.”

“I promise not to call your partner any names, other than Waverly. Nicole, we’re friends. I’m here to protect you, fight for you, make sure you get the best for yourself and the band.”

“When’s Sony coming?”

“They’re due here in an hour. We should eat. I make a mean pasta puttanesca.”

“Does it have meat?” Waverly asked. “Only, I’m vegan.”

“Fish. I’ll make a separate sauce for you.”

Rosita went inside to prepare the meal. “Well, she’s being nicer,” Waverly noted. “Is it me, or does that scare you more?”

“She’s up to something. Could be Sony, or just Rosita keeping me near enough. We really don’t have to stay here, if you don’t want to. I need to make sure you’re happy. And, if you’re not happy here we go. Promise.”

“I’ve had worse thrown at me. I’m not too young for you, am I?”

“Oh God, Waverly. No, of course not. I was worried you’d find me too old for you.”

“I like you being older. Makes it more real. Let’s go eat.”

They were just finishing their meal when Sony’s European CEO arrived, holidaying nearby. Rosita welcomed him in, with his two executives, making drinks, introducing Nicole. “I’m so glad we have you in our family,” the CEO said, sipping Rosita’s premium whiskey. “Your band fits so nicely with our direction as a company. And, your image will help our message enormously.”

Nicole listened to the guy, waiting for the demands. She had been in the business long enough to know companies like Sony get what they want. “I’m thinking we could bring Waverly on stage with you, say at the end of each concert. Get you to show the world how much she means to you.”

Nicole shook her head. “Not happening.”

The CEO smiled. “What you did in Marbella sent ripples through social media. It was a powerful message. We don’t want that message diluted by Waverly disappearing.”

“She’s going to college soon. She has her own life. You get me. End of.”

The CEO looked at Rosita. “This could work, I guess. Devoted band member, not able to be with the one she loves. Okay, one appearance on stage. I’ll let you consider how best to play this.”

Nicole felt like throwing another glass against the wall. Hers was filled with water, knowing if she went near alcohol she would lose it. “I’ll consider it. But, the decision is not mine. It has to be Waverly’s. She’s not used to this and I’m not going to drag her into something she doesn’t want, or need.”

“I guess I could just once,” Waverly offered, not quite sure what she was being asked. “As long as I don’t have to perform.”

“We need you to kiss Nicole on stage,” the CEO replied. “That’s it. Show everyone what you have.”

“Let’s take our drinks outside,” Rosita suggested. “It’s too warm inside.”

Rosita led the guys out, leaving Nicole and Waverly behind. “I fucking knew it,” Nicole said, once the others were out of earshot. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prostitute yourself for anyone. And, certainly not Sony.”

“If it keeps them happy, and you, I’ll do it,” Waverly said. “I mean, it’s just a kiss.”

Nicole was shaking her head. “This will change your life. You won’t be able to go back to how it was before. Our kiss in the club was one thing, this will be in front of tens of thousands of people. Hundreds of thousands who watch afterwards. Sony want us to be their love statement.”

“So much for coming out gradually, or discreetly,” Waverly replied. “Guess, I can’t go back in the closet now.”

“I’m so sorry. Waverly, God I wish I hadn’t done it now. I regret dragging you into this.”

Waverly took Nicole’s glass from her hand, leaning in. “I wanted you to kiss me, remember.”

“In a bedroom. I don’t remember you wanting a public show.”

“You don’t regret it, do you?”

“I will never regret kissing you. I regret not doing it when we had the chance to keep us private.”

“I think we’re way past the private stage. Come on Casanova, let’s go talk to your bosses.”

Nicole held out her hand, a mischievous look in her eyes. “Or, we could just head to our room. I’m feeling tired all of a sudden.”

“Later. Give you something to look forward to. And me.”

The Sony guys left before eight, Rosita inviting them to a small party she was throwing the next evening to celebrate the band’s success. She had sent the word out to a few people who were on the island, a discreet bunch who would enjoy meeting Nicole, those who knew how to play fame. Rosita showed them to the separate guest lodgings. “Is there anything you want? I can have the housekeeper get it for you.”

“Our clothes would be good,” Nicole said. “Been in these for too long. Might have to burn them.”

“Why didn’t you say? Let me know sizes and I’ll have Maria pick some things up for you. The shops are still open.”

“A bikini. Briefs. Oh, and a tee shirt. Flip flops.” Waverly listed. “Maybe a pair of shorts.”

“Same,” Nicole added. “And, decent sunglasses. When’s our stuff arriving?”

“Your mother is flying out tomorrow morning. I’m assuming she’ll bring your belongings with her.”

“And, Wynonna?” Waverly asked.

“I believe Dexter is handling Wynonna. You may need to check with her when she’s arriving.”

Sizes given, Rosita left them alone. Nicole lay on the bed, her eyes closing, not wanting to fall asleep too soon. Waverly phoned Wynonna from the privacy of the lounge, hoping she would pick up, needing to hear her voice. “Hey, baby girl. I’m almost done. Packed up most of my stuff when I went to Nicole’s. Dexter’s flying us out tomorrow afternoon.”

“We haven’t really had much time together,” Waverly said, the one regret in all this. “I quite liked our walks and the ride along the seafront.”

“Hey, we still can do all that. How’s pug face?”

“She’s okay. I think she’s upset with herself for having kissed me. I get the feeling she wanted to wait. Took her three years to do anything with Shae.”

“I guess she didn’t want you with someone else. She really didn’t like the idea of Alicia anywhere near you.”

“Sony want me to kiss her on stage.”

“Fuck. Seriously, that’s awesome.”

“On stage in front of thousands.”

Wynonna paused. “Oh, fuck. Not awesome. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’ll have a word with Nicole when I see her. You’re not a prop. You need me to bring you anything?”

“Briefs. Been in these too long. No, it’s fine. Love you.”

Nicole was fast asleep when she entered the bedroom, deciding to leave her rest. She made herself a fruit tea, watched an American sitcom, turned in shortly after eleven. Nicole’s clothes were lying in a pile on the floor, Waverly picking them up, folding them neatly, placing them on a chair. A shower to wash away the day, she climbed into bed, checking her phone. Her friend from school, the one she had wanted to talk to about her feelings had left a voicemail. “Hey, call me if you need to chat. I’m here for you. I’m really glad for you.”

She wanted to call her, tell her what she had meant to say that day they sat eating lunch, just the two of them. She wanted to say she had feelings for her, beyond that of a friend. She wondered if that was why her friend had called. Perhaps she already guessed. Perhaps seeing the media buzz about Nicole’s new love interest, recognising that love interest, had made her realise that’s what she wanted to say, that day, that warm May day, in Scranton, eating outside, just the two of them.

Nicole was restless, mumbling something, her legs moving under the covers. Waverly at first couldn’t make out what she was saying, letting her be, letting her dream. “I won’t, I promise. It’s late. Take mine. Stay on the main roads. Don’t go too fast. Shae, don’t go too fast. You’re going too fast. You’re going too fast.”

Nicole sat up. “Fuck. Where am I?”

“Rosita’s house.”

Nicole looked over, momentarily confused, wondering why Waverly was lying beside her. “Sorry, I must have dozed off. Fuck, haven’t had one of those in a while.”

“A bad dream.”

Nicole got out of bed, pacing the room. “I can’t do this. I can’t bring you into all of this. I’m dropping the deal. That’s it. I walk. That’s the only way to protect you. I’m not even supposed to be thinking about all this. I was on a fucking break. God, why the fuck didn’t I think this through. We’re going too fast.”

“Nicole, it’s alright. Really. Kissing you on stage will be amazing. Don’t worry about me. Come lay down.”

Nicole couldn’t rest, her anxiety levels through the roof. She looked at Waverly, panic in her eyes, heading for the door, pulling at it. “I can’t get out. I can’t get out.”

Waverly sprung off the bed, turning the lock. “Oh God, Nicole, I’m sorry. I locked it in case Rosita barged in again.”

“I need air. It’s suffocating. It’s too hot in here.”

Waverly watched as Nicole left the apartment completely naked, heading who knows where. She grabbed a bath robe for herself, another for Nicole, heading out to find her. She was sat on a lounger, shaking, sobbing, Waverly’s heart breaking. Placing the robe over her shoulders, she sat behind her resting her head on her shoulder. “Nicole, listen to me. I wish I could bring you peace, whatever it is you’re going through. Whatever you decide to do. Whatever’s right for you, I’ll be there. If you need to quit, then quit. If you need more time, then give yourself that time. If you need me there with you on the road, I’ll be there.”

“I can’t ask that of you.”

“Wynonna told me not to give up who I am. To keep going with my life. But, if that means leaving you like this then that’s not much of a life.”

Nicole turned. “I’m just scared. I told you I’m not the big rock star you think I am.”

“Hey, you’re my rock star. My rock star.”

Rosita was listening from her balcony, now recognising how fragile Nicole was, recognising Waverly might just be what she needed. Too valuable an asset to discard, she worried when the hospital recommended Nicole take time away from playing to come back to herself. The recommendation was two years, Rosita nodding knowing two years was a lifetime in the music industry, new bands, new solo artists eating up attention. She would have said no more than six months, a year tops. Here they were, three months into Nicole’s break and they were back where they started, Nicole on the verge of going under again, this time with a naïve eighteen year old to help her navigate the rougher seas that would inevitably come having signed with Sony.

She decided to leave the couple work things out that night, hoping tomorrow and the party would lift Nicole’s spirits, get her back into the swing of everything. Guests were responding to the short-notice invite. Paris Hilton was over, known on the island for her DJ stint at Amnesia, David Guetta had offered to provide the music, James Blunt and his wife said they would drop in, Jade Jagger and a friend, Alessandro Ambrosio and her husband were delighted to be on the invitation list. Rosita was nothing if not connected. 

Nicole accepted Waverly’s hand, heading to the bedroom, the pair cuddling, Nicole finally falling asleep in the early hours of the morning. Maria the housekeeper arrived with a selection of clothes, not what they would have chosen, sufficient for their needs. They had breakfast together, lounging by the pool, Nicole’s mother turning up early afternoon, bags in tow. “Oh my, what a crazy experience that was. So many photographers. I’m hoping they got my best side,” she said, grinning at Waverly.

“Have you got my pills?” Nicole asked, anxious to have them.

“I went through every drawer. I’ve got everything darling. Waverly, all your things are in your bag.”

“Thank you,” Waverly replied, grateful for Nicole’s mother. “I’ll change into my own bikini. This one is a little large on me.”

She disappeared, Nicole hugging her mother. “I’m a wreck,” she said. “I’m not sure I can hold it together much longer.”

“Oh, darling. Why didn’t you say? Does Rosita know? And, Waverly.”

Nicole shook her head. “Waverly’s worried, as she has every right to be. What I’ve put her through.”

“She’s young. It’s you I’m worried about. You haven’t given yourself enough time. Honestly, Rosita should have realised. Why she ever thought you were ready to sign with Sony?”

“What if I lose it again? What if I can’t go on, because I’m too drunk?”

“I’ll be with you. I’ve told Frank I’ll stay with you for as long as you need me. You’re not doing this on your own.”

“They want Waverly on stage.”

“Troy’s not going to like that.”

“I’ve ruined her life. Like I ruined Shae’s.”

“You haven’t, honey. Waverly needs go do her thing. She’ll be there for you, but won’t have to put up with all the crap. If you want her, if she’s who you need in your life, then we’ll protect her. You and me.”

“Okay, we make this work,” Nicole replied. “I can’t lose her. You know that.”

Nicole’s mother nodded. “She is lovely. Honey, she’s not Shae. She’s different.”

“I know. She’s Waverly Earp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love this song: [The Dualz: Inside Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8oNriI5VKgo&list=RD_dhkFEMQMt0&index=9)


	17. the Hype

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole helps Wavelry overcome her nerves...
> 
> Music mood: [Cher: Believe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nZXRV4MezEw)
> 
> .

Dexter arrived with Wynonna later that day. Wynonna rushed to hug her sister, checking she still had arms and legs, squeezing her cheeks, forcing herself not to cry. Nicole looked tired, worried Wynonna would have more than a few critical words to say about what had happened, what was happening, what was about to happen. She simply smiled, holding out her arms, waiting for Nicole to hug her too. “Looks like the family are back together again,” Wynonna said. “This place is nice. Your place was nice. Dexter’s place was very nice. Does anyone do lousy homes over here?”

“It’s good to see you,” Nicole said. “What’s happening with Max?”

Wynonna shrugged her shoulders. “He knows where I am. I try not to collect too much moss as I roll along. He and Alicia might come over in a few weeks to check out the club scene. So, what’s your masterplan Haught?”

“Get Waverly home, sort out any friction with Ward, hopefully she’ll have kept her job at Terra’s. Get her settled in college.”

“You. What are you going to do?” Wynonna asked.

“Go back to the band. Make it through. Not get drunk. Although, I’d really, really like to throw up on Rosita right now.”

“Okay. Seems like a fair plan. Are you up to this? It’s going to take a lot out of you.”

“I’ll manage,” Nicole replied, attempting to sound confident, lacking the energy to persuade even herself. “Get up, sing out, not puke on anyone. Not that difficult.”

“Sounds like something I’d say. So, where am I sleeping?”

Waverly took her sister’s arm, leading her to one of the bedrooms on the ground floor, closing the door behind her. “She’s not well enough to do this. Wyn, she’s not going to be able to do this.”

Wynonna sat beside her sister, holding her hand. “As long as she has something to fight for, she’ll survive. She’s tough baby girl. She survived being locked in a wood shed by some creepy dude.”

“I don’t think she did survive. She freaked out when she couldn’t get out of the room last night.”

“Ah, yes. About that. She’s got this thing about locked doors. As long as she knows she can get out she’s fine.”

“I don’t think Ward will be too happy with all this. Or, my boss.”

“We’ll call him tomorrow. Perhaps, leave calling your boss until you get back. I’m starving, and I need a drink.”

“Rosita’s having a party this evening. Thinks it will cheer Nicole up. Nicole’s mom is fun.”

“Ooh, goodie, another party,” Wynonna said. “Waverly, just enjoy this for now. I can’t promise it will last. Only Nicole can promise you that. Although, I don’t think she can either…If it ever gets too much for you, you must tell her.”

Waverly left her sister to sort out her things, returning to her accommodation, Nicole strumming on her guitar. She looked up as she entered, returning to the song she’d written for Waverly, who quietly sat listening. It was obvious Nicole was talented, passionate about the music, had a creative edge unlike a lot of singers who could catch a mood with a song, never really diving deeper into the melody, or the lyrics. Nicole’s songs seemed to come directly from her soul, an expression of herself she offered to the world. Perhaps that’s why the business got to her so much, perhaps that’s why Shae had felt the need to protect her, keep her soul safe. She hoped she could do the same, Wynonna’s words of caution still ringing in her ears.

The first guests were beginning to arrive, the low hum of people talking outside by the pool, laughter, the beat of dance music in the background. Nicole looked fabulous, her customary rock chic outfit on, her hair falling loose, Waverly kissing her before they made their way out. Rosita was in fine form, greeting guests as they arrived, extra staff brought in to cater for the evening supplying drinks, walking round with trays of canapes. The guy from Sony was there with his partner, a younger man, extremely good looking catching Wynonna’s eye. 

Rosita took Nicole’s arm, asking to borrow her star from Waverly for a few moments, leading her off in the direction of a group sitting near the pool. Waverly was left to fend for herself, spotting Nicole’s mother, making a beeline for her. “Hello there, what a lovely dress,” Nicole’s mother remarked. “It’s so hot over here. Do you have a drink?”

“I’m pacing myself,” Waverly replied. “Have you been to many of these events?”

“A few, mostly backstage parties. They all get a little samey after a while. Famous faces that at my age I have no idea who they are.”

Just as Waverly was about to reply, Rosita came rushing past, phone to her ear, clicking her fingers at Dexter, who followed her into the house. “What’s going on?” Waverly asked, wondering what had set Rosita on fire.

“Oh, probably some celebrity she’s trying to impress. Let’s go find you a soda. This weather’s far too hot not to have liquids.”

Wynonna emerged from the house, her face white, looking for Waverly. “You are not going to believe this. Seriously, you are not going to believe this. Pinch me. I need pinching.”

“What? Wyn, what’s up?”

“So, here’s the thing. I’m coming out of my room, and there are two men outside my door. Seriously good looking men, in suits. And, I’m like, hey maybe I’m going to like Ibiza. And then, guess who comes out of the bathroom?”

“I don’t know. Who? Another man. Two men. A woman.”

Wynonna nodded her head. “Definitely a woman. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A woman. Famous. So famous.”

“Who? Wyn, who?”

“Only Madonna.”

“No! You’re teasing me. You’re telling me Madonna is actually in the house right now.”

“Madonna is in the fucking house, right now. I’ve met Madonna. Okay, I didn’t actually meet her, but I shared air with her. I love Haught.”

“Did you say anything to her? Does she look like Madonna?”

“No, looks nothing like her. Of course she looks like Madonna. And no, I didn’t say anything. Had to stop myself from hugging her I got that carried away. Where is pug face?”

“Talking with some of the guests by the pool. Do you think we could get her autograph?”

“What pug face’s autograph? I think you’ve had more than an autograph from that girl.”

“Madonna’s. Do you think Nicole knows she’s here?”

“No idea. Let’s go find out.”

Wynonna dragged Waverly over to Nicole, who had her back to them, the guy she was talking to breaking off to smile at the pair. Nicole glanced over her shoulder, wondering why Wynonna was looking at her in a peculiar way, wondering why Waverly was also eyeing her suspiciously. “What? What’s happened?”

“Can I borrow you for a moment?" Wynonna asked, grabbing Nicole’s arm, smiling at the man, suddenly recognising who he was, a look of shock on her face. “Is that James Blunt?” 

“His wife’s lovely. James has promised to come to my first concert.”

“Okay, that’s great. So, I’m going to say something here and don’t freak out. Did you know Madonna is here?”

“She never misses a chance to mingle. Probably heard Cher was coming.”

Wynonna looked at Waverly, both with their mouths open. “Fuck off,” Wynonna said. “You’re telling us Cher’s coming here too.”

“As far as I know. Where’s Ros?”

“Are you telling me you’re not fazed by any of this? Like, this happens all the time.”

“I met Madonna when we were starting out,” Nicole explained. “Ros invited her to one of our concerts. She came backstage afterwards and was really great. She told me to enjoy the ride while I could. Not to get too caught up in the drink and drugs.”

“All of which you ignored.”

Nicole glared at Wynonna. “I was under a lot of pressure at the time. So, do you want to meet her?”

“We’re good. I mean, it’s only Madonna. Of course we want to meet her. I want to have her babies.”

“Don’t know about that. Probably could get you an autograph, although she hates giving them out. She’ll take a selfie with you though, so long as you don’t share it on social media.”

“Selfie is good. I can cope with a selfie with Madonna,” Wynonna said.

Waverly stood quietly beside her sister witnessing yet another side of Nicole. It never occurred to her Nicole would be mixing with those even more famous than her. It never occurred to her that Nicole would have other famous singers coming to her concert, meeting her backstage, giving her advice on how to stay sane and sober in an industry that really didn’t care so long as she could get up on stage and perform, bring in the fans, fill a venue, sell her songs and the band’s merchandise, keep the money rolling in.

Nicole strode off in the direction of the house, Waverly holding back, really not sure she was ready to meet yet another idol. She didn’t want to come across as some silly school girl, all googly eyed at Madonna. She held back as Nicole and Wynonna disappeared inside, finding a seat, watching others enjoying an evening of free drinks and celebrity socialising. She was now part of this world, but it felt alien, so far beyond Harmony she wasn't sure she could return as the same person. 

Nicole appeared, kneeling, taking her hands. “Hey, it’s alright. I know this is all too much. Come, Wynonna’s fangirling Madonna. Do you need a little time away from here?”

Waverly nodded, continuing to hold Nicole's hand, walking back to their accommodation. “Sorry,” Waverly said, as Nicole closed the door behind her. “I didn’t realise this was all part of it.”

“It’s not. It’s usually boring, lots of dull fans hanging around wanting to be seen with the band. Occasionally someone famous shows up. Madonna is just like us when you get to meet her. Honestly.”

“I don’t think I can. Or, Cher. I might stay here. Just for a little while.”

“I need to go talk to some others. I won’t be too long. Are you sure you’ll be okay. I can get my mom to come sit with you. She hates all this. Can never remember anyone’s name after a few drinks. She amused Sting once by calling him String. He kept correcting her, but she didn’t seem to notice.”

Nicole kissed Waverly softly on the lips before heading off to be with other famous people. Waverly assumed the knock on the door a half hour later was either Wynonna or Nicole’s mother, come to drag her back to the party, or sit with her. She shouted to whoever was there that the door was open. A head appeared, Waverly’s jaw dropping as Madonna looked in at her. “It’s Waverly right, can I come in?”

Waverly nodded, no words able to come from her mouth, her eyes fixed on Madonna’s face. “I’ve brought a friend, if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” Waverly managed to say, waiting to see who Madonna had in tow. 

“This is all so cosy. I think I might spend the evening here,” the other person said, following Madonna into the room.

“Cher!” Waverly blurted, before she could stop herself.

“That’s right honey. I hear you’ve caused a bit of a scene with our Nicole.”

“She didn’t,” Nicole said. “She simply is too beautiful not to kiss.”

“I agree,” Cher said, plonking herself down beside Waverly. “We’re here to give you the VIP treatment.”

Wynonna was the last to enter, the group sitting chatting, laughing, the sisters forgetting who they were with. Despite all the media coverage about a supposed feud, everyone got along, Nicole making sure everyone was supplied with drinks, Rosita joining them briefly, asking if they needed anything. Nicole’s mother was the last to arrive, a young man on her arm, Waverly vaguely recognising him. 

“This is Tom everyone,” Nicole’s mother introduced. “He’s feeling a little left out.”

“Oh, my God!” Waverly exclaimed, suddenly realising who it was. “You’re Draco. I can’t believe it’s you.”

Tom winked. “I usually get booed, I’m glad I’ve got one fan at least.”

The drinks flowed, their small gathering ending up playing a game of charades, Tom the best out of the group. Madonna left early, saying she had a flight to catch the next morning, wishing Nicole every success with the band. She had talked with Waverly for some of the evening, telling her to ignore all the hype that comes with the industry, to call her if she ever needed advice, or simply someone who knew the business a little longer, a little better. 

The others drifted off gradually, Wynonna sad to see Tom Felton leave, offering to have his babies too. He smiled, gave her a kiss on the cheek and his phone number. Nicole was falling asleep, Waverly taking her by the hand to the bedroom, telling her to lie down. “Thank you,” she said, stroking Nicole’s hair, letting her drift off. “I know you did all that for me.”

Nicole opened one eye. “I want you in my life, Waverly Earp. And, I think Madge has taken a bit of a shine to you too. I saw you.”

Waverly blushed. “She’s lovely. They’re all lovely. Not what I expected.”

“Told you,” Nicole said, stifling a yawn. “I’m so tired. I could sleep for a week.”

“You rest. You’ll need it with what you’re taking on. Madonna has recommended a few meditation retreats she swears by and will send me her dietician’s number. Said we both need to look after our bodies and each other.”

Nicole smiled, closing her eye again, drifting off. She was awake at two in the morning, having another anxiety attack, Waverly waking up to find the other side of the bed empty, wondering where Nicole was. She ventured outside where Nicole was on a sun lounger, thankfully wearing a tee shirt this time, strumming away at her guitar. She let her finish, Nicole looking up, resuming her playing, the words to the song she’d written for Waverly tumbling out. “Of all the girls I could ever meet, it was you. It had to be you…”

Waverly listened, suddenly hearing Nicole’s message to her, tears welling. “Oh, Nicole, it’s beautiful. It’s the first time I’ve really heard it. Thank you.”

Nicole met Waverly’s eyes, continuing to play, changing the words to capture the moment. “Thought I knew what love was. Had the roadmap figured out. Then you came along and had to rip it up. Don’t know where I’m going, but I do know who I’m taking with me. It has to be you…” 

Nicole laid the guitar down on the sun lounger, standing before Waverly. “My world ended, at least I thought my world ended with Shae’s death. Then an angel arrived.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I know Madonna and Cher have a long-running feud. But, I thought it would be fun for the two to really be friends behind it all and were simply letting the press say what it wanted. It's also a subtle nod to not believing everything you read...!


	18. ON REFLECTION...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haven't we all dreamt of a life that is better than the one we are currently living...aka a plot twist...!
> 
> [Talk Talk: Life's What You Make It](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=l3VqAsMXE7o)
> 
> .

Jake’s voice was yelling in her ear. “Hey, don’t you have band practise.”

Nicole opened her eyes, realising she was in one of her uncle’s boats moored at the side of the lake, the movement having lulled her into yet another dream of world domination as a rock chic. There she was in Harmony, a boat mender, looking at her watch. “Fuck. Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”

“Too busy cleaning the other boats. Looks like you spent most of the afternoon asleep by the colour of your nose.”

Nicole touched it, its sensitivity telling her she had morphed into Rudolph the Reindeer, failing to apply suntan lotion on that part of her anatomy most days. A text from Shae an hour previous informed her they wouldn’t be having band practise that night. Or, any night for that matter. Her vocal chords needed surgery and without her as lead singer, she couldn’t see how the band could carry on.

To say she was a prima donna was to give prima donna’s a bad name. It was her band, as she kept reminding everyone. Troy played along, as did Alex and Dylan, not wanting to have Shae ruin another practise session by her theatrics. Nicole being the only other girl was left to calm her down, tell her how great she was, how fabulous a singer she was, how talented she was. Except, she knew, as the others knew she wasn’t.

Troy suggested one time, when Shae was incapacitated with a cold, Nicole might try being the lead singer. He’d heard her sing while practising, knowing she had what Shae lacked. What Nicole lacked was confidence. Troy was right, Nicole was infinitely better at playing her guitar and singing. She was also infinitely better at writing songs, many of which were vetoed by Shae who simply thought her musical outputs were superior, even though secretly she liked what Nicole produced.

Crawling out of the boat, her neck stiff from the position she had fallen asleep in, she stretched to regain some flexibility, arching her back, realising her life wasn’t going anywhere. The vivid life inside her head was another matter, the famous rock star who had even more famous friends, oh and a gorgeous girlfriend by the name of Waverly Earp.

Waverly Earp, emerald eyes, lusciously long brown hair, a body to die for, which she would happily do, except Waverly Earp was dating Champ Hardy, local wild boy, with an eye for pretty things. Nicole lived next door to Waverly, moving into her cousin Greg’s room after his career took him abroad, helping her uncle with the boats during the summer, working at one of the nearby ski resorts during the winter. Wynonna had begged her to come travelling, telling her she needed to get out of Harmony, see the world, experience different cultures. Live a little.

Nicole toyed with the idea, eventually deciding it was a step too far for her at that moment in her life. At twenty four any step would be too far, having settled into the Harmony way of life. She would sit most evenings with her uncle looking out over the lake, neither speaking, each lost in their own world. Nicole would often look across the lake at the fancy house, the one with the outside decking, dreaming of owning it one day. Given she earned so little it was a dream too far, as was being a rock star, or having any chance with Waverly Earp.

Waverly Earp, the girl she dreamed about the most. The cheeky waitress, who knew her own mind, who wasn’t afraid to say it. She would occasionally come sit with Nicole and her uncle, if her father was in one of his drinking moods. She too would contemplate life, wondering what possibilities lay outside their small community, knowing both her sisters had decided anywhere was better than staying still.

She parked herself on an upturned crate, a soda in her hand. “My papers came through for Penn,” she said, glancing over at Nicole. “Can’t wait to get started. Will you miss me?”

Nicole continued to stare at the ripples on the water, knowing she would. “Sure. Are you nervous?”

“Nope. Okay, a little. I kind of think I might be too small town for somewhere like Penn.”

“You’ll be fine. I guess you’ll come back a fancy lawyer, buy the best house on the lake.”

“Not sure I’m ever coming back,” Waverly replied. “Pa’s with his new woman, Willa and Wynonna are off doing their own thing. There’s not much here for me to come back for.”

Nicole continued to stare at the ripples on the water, knowing if it was her she would return for Waverly. “Guess so, not much here but us lake folk.”

“Why didn’t you go with Wynonna?” Waverly asked.

“Cos, what’s the point. I’d only get homesick, or seasick, or country sick. I like what I have here.”

“But, you must want something beyond here?” Waverly persisted. 

“Perhaps. A chance at making it in the rock world would be nice.”

Waverly lit up. “You’d be so good. I could see you now Nicole Haught, rock chic, with tight leather pants, a ripped vest, blasting out your songs to thousands.”

“The most I’ve ever played to is a crowd of two hundred at a school reunion.”

“That’s a start.”

“We were booed off the stage.”

“Still a start.”

“I wonder what it would be like to perform in front of a big crowd,” Nicole said. “Don’t think I’d have the guts.”

“You always put yourself down,” Waverly remarked. “You’re a fantastic musician, who happens to be in a band that doesn’t appreciate you that’s all. And, as for that Shae. She needs taking down a peg or two. Preferably, four.”

“She’s put the band on hold. Problems with her vocal chords.”

“God, she’s a…so, what are you going to do?”

Nicole shrugged. “Guess I’ll look for another band.”

“Why don’t you sing? I mean, you’re as good as Shae.”

“I don’t know. Troy thinks that’s a possibility. But, we need another female to balance the band.”

Waverly raised her hand. “I mean, I’m not due to start Penn for another few months. I could be your wingman.”

“You’d have to learn all our songs,” Nicole replied, suddenly realising Waverly Earp was offering to sing with her. 

“Kind of know them already, silly. Guitar lessons, remember. Plus, you’ll get to try out some of your songs. The ones Shae hates. Personally, I hate her songs.”

“I could ask the others. Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Why not. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t think it would be fun. Hanging out with you and the other band members, without Shae.”

Nicole put the proposal to the boys, every one of them replying immediately to say yes, definitely yes. They too had grown tired of Shae having it all her own way. If there was such a thing as divine providence, Shae’s damaged chords would fall under that category, the rest of the band relishing the prospect of being allowed to explore their own musical avenues unhindered.

The band were booked to play at Rosita and Doc’s club in Scranton, a week away. A friend of Nicole’s mother, through her yoga classes, Rosita had booked the band hoping they wouldn’t suck, assuming they would. The only consolation was they were cheap and saved her from Doc’s own musical ambitions. He liked to think he could make magic with the turntable, his stage name in his younger years Doctor Dexter, or simply Dexter. The man who believed he could spin a deck to stir women's hearts. Deck Stir.

It didn’t give the band much time to practise, let alone introduce new songs. They met every evening, Troy careful not to let his sister know where he was going, enjoying the freedom that came with not having her in tow. Waverly was a natural, her voice matching Nicole’s perfectly, her ability to play a guitar reasonably good. That didn’t matter, the band had found a new energy, practising long into the evening, Nicole driving them back to Harmony at the end of each session. 

They would laugh about their missed notes and off keys and muddled words and it was everything Nicole had ever wanted in her life. A chance to make music with someone who didn’t steal the limelight, who didn’t jump all over another’s talent, who simply wanted to be part of a band. Waverly had her bare feet up on the dashboard. “Do you ever think what it would be like to have someone come up to you asking for your autograph? No wait, a selfie.”

“Must be cool to be recognised wherever you go.”

“Right. Like you walk along and someone sees you and does a double take. And, screams…Nicole Haught, I love you. You’re the best.”

“Like that’s ever gonna happen,” Nicole replied, knowing most of her dreams revolved around just such an event. 

“And, guys throw themselves at you.”

“Could be painful.”

Waverly laughed. “I have a good feeling about us.”

Nicole had a good feeling too. _So, do I tell you,_ she thought, _the reason I never left Harmony with Wynonna was to be able to hang around with you a little longer? And, now we’re in a band together. Can’t get much better than that. ___

____

“What time are you picking me up tomorrow?” Waverly asked, as they pulled up outside her house.

____

“Reckon seven. Does that give you enough time?”

____

“Plenty. Pa will be out, so I don’t have to worry about making dinner. I’m so excited.”

____

Nicole watched as Waverly entered her house, the lights going on one by one. She parked her car, collecting the box from the back seat containing the slices of apple pie Waverly had brought with her to band practise to share with her aunt and uncle. They had been good to her, her aunt Nancy gathering her under her wing after the incident in the woods, making sure she was safe. Her fear of the woods surrounding Harmony kept her as much a prisoner as her own lack of courage. Or, perhaps they were the same.

____

Two paths converged in the woods. The day she found herself at the mercy of some crazy dude supposedly ready to add her piece by piece to his fire, she had been presented with a choice. Unknowingly, but isn't that how choices work. To let what was happening propel her to greatness, or let fear tighten its grip. Despite Wynonna’s soothing words outside the shed, she chose the second path, letting fear dictate the way her life would be from that day forward. 

____

Had she chosen the more courageous path, who knows where she might be? An international rock star, perhaps, entertaining celebrities at her manager’s luxury home in Ibiza. Mixing with Madonna and Cher, making love to Waverly Earp in the heat of the night. Her dreams were filled with the life she wanted for herself, knowing however vivid they were she lacked the courage to go after what she truly wanted. 

____

Waverly knocked on the door shortly before seven, taking time to chat with Nicole’s aunt and uncle, both wishing her every success with her first outing with the band. Nicole bounced downstairs wearing her customary rock chic outfit, Waverly’s eyes unable to move beyond her tight trousers. “Wow. Is my outfit okay?”

____

Nicole allowed herself to move her eyes over Waverly’s body, pretending to make a critical judgment. “Perfect. We’ll knock ‘em dead tonight.”

____

“I was worried it wouldn’t fit with the band,” Waverly replied. “I kinda don’t know how this works.”

____

“Leave that to me,” Nicole replied, attempting to be brave, secretly terrified the evening would bomb and Waverly would never want to be part of this ever again.

____

Waverly gazed out the window as they drove to Scranton. “I’ve told Champ not to come,” she said, as they neared the venue. “He wanted to. It's just...I don’t want my first time spoilt with him whistling.”

____

Nicole shuddered at Champ’s name. “Good decision. Takes time to get into the swing of things.”

____

“You know my mother used to sing,” Waverly added. “Guess I take after her.”

____

“Wynonna told me.”

____

“Wanna know what her favourite song was?”

____

“Nope,” Nicole replied, attempting at humour. “No, I mean what’s the song?”

____

“Guess.”

____

“My youngest child is a rockstar.”

____

“Is that even a song? Guess.”

____

“Need a clue.”

____

“Roberta Flack.”

____

“My child is Roberta Flack,” Nicole offered.

____

Waverly thumped her on the arm. “You’re funny. Last guess.”

____

“Oh, so we’re into limited guesses are we. Okay, let me see…could it be…no…perhaps…maybe…”

____

“Nicole! Guess, or I’ll be forced to pin you down and tickle you.”

____

“I’m driving. Will make the report to the cops as to why we crashed sound a little strange. She pinned me down because I wouldn’t tell her the song she wanted me to tell her was The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face, officer.”

____

Waverly gasped. “You knew. Wynonna must have told you.”

____

“It’s my favourite song too. Okay, Wynonna may have told me it’s a family favourite. She got me to play it for her once. I think it’s the only time I saw her cry.”

____

“The first time, ever I saw your face…” Waverly began, her voice angelic, sending shivers down Nicole’s spine. “It’s my mom’s favourite song. Probably why.”

____

Nicole pulled into the parking lot close to the side entrance, unloading speakers and equipment from the back, Waverly helping. Troy showed up ten minutes later apologising for not being there to help, looking as nervous a Nicole. With little opportunity for a sound check, they waited for Alex and Dylan to arrive, the five sitting in a booth watching as the club became busier. “Guess this is our big night,” Troy said, raising his beer. “Here’s to us. Wayhaught.”

____

Waverly snorted. “That’s not the name of the band. You’re called The Butterflies.”

____

Troy lowered his beer bottle. “Only because my sister has this thing about butterflies. We need a new name and this is perfect.”

____

Nicole ran her finger down her bottle, secretly in awe of Troy’s new name for the band. She could see Waverly liked it too. _Should I tell her I fancy the pants off her,_ she thought, _I mean now would be a good time. But, she’s with Champ. Fucking Champ._

____

They wowed the crowd with their music, Rosita telling them she needed to book the band again for another event she was holding in a week’s time. This was the first time the band had been rebooked, the five hugging outside afterwards. 

____

“You know,” Waverly said, as they drove back to Harmony. “We should do a video of your song Of All the Girls. It’s so good.”

____

“Like a YouTube video,” Nicole qualified. “I don’t know. Perhaps.”

____

Waverly laughed. “Nicole Haught, we’re making that video.”

____


	19. the Heights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole thinks she's made it...
> 
> Music mood: [Madonna: Nothing Really Matters](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cAVx9RKaLPU)

In one evening the band had gone from an assortment of frustrated musicians to a group, an actual group of talented performers in harmony with each other. All because Shae no longer had control over what they were doing. In many ways they emerged from their own chrysalis, beautiful shiny-winged butterflies, each lifting the other to greater heights. 

No one resented Shae. To the contrary, they admired her persistence, her stamina to keep the band together, keep them practising week after week, month after month, year after year. Had it not been for her, the band would have drifted, probably disbanded, found other bands to join. Nicole knew she wanted to make music, so joining another band might have been the direction she took. Not one to promote her talent, she most likely would have hidden in the shadows, doing her thing, quietly frustrated at not getting a break, knowing it lay with her to make that break happen.

The next gig at Rosita’s club was better attended, much better attended. Word got round a new band was performing, few realising all the other gigs The Butterflies had done, a fact which played in their favour. Even the new name of the band was causing a stir. Wayhaught had a catchy feel to it, plus gave them a chance to show the audience what they could do. 

Waverly was the most excited, wanting to practise most evenings after work, insisting Nicole teach her all the songs, Waverly selecting those she thought would work well together for their new band. Troy was the most impressed by Waverly’s ability to use Nicole’s songs to create a new sound, a little more edgy, a little more individual compared to Shae’s more mainstream approach. The new songs worked, all the band members agreeing on Waverly’s playlist for the next gig. 

It felt good waiting in the store room to go on at Rosita’s club. No fancy dressing room, just a few chairs and free water provided, each handling the situation differently. Dylan was his usual quiet self, headphones on tapping the top of a cardboard box to whatever rhythm was in his ears. Alex was on his phone talking to some friends who were in the audience, telling him the place was buzzing with excitement. Troy was reading a book on Eastern philosophy, making notes in the margin. Nicole looked nervous, wanting to do her best, worried she would let everyone down. 

And then, there was Waverly, enjoying every moment of the experience, wishing this could be her life. She studied Nicole’s face, wondering why she didn’t look like she was enjoying the experience quite so much. “Hey, this is your night. You’ll be fantastic.”

“I guess. It’s a big crowd. Probably bigger than the one where we were booted off stage.”

“So,” Waverly replied. “That was then. This is now. We’re Wayhaught now. New band, new music, new opportunity.”

Nicole smiled. _How can you be this sexy?_ she thought. _I’m about to have a panic attack and you’re loving every moment of this._ “It does feel good with you here. It’s like you brought your energy with you and everyone’s feeding off it.”

“Life’s too short to be a pessimist,” Waverly replied. “You gotta grab what you can while you can, that’s my motto.”

“I’d probably miss.” 

“Miss what?”

“What I was grabbing at,” Nicole said, her hand reaching for some invisible thing in front of her.

Waverly laughed. “At least you grabbed at it. That’s half the battle.”

“We should have named the band Polyanna,” Alex said, finishing his call.

“Rude,” Waverly replied, winking at Nicole. “I just think if you have a choice in life why not go with the positive, not the negative.”

Nicole listened, knowing she had invariably gone with the negative most of her life, certainly since the incident in the woods. She had been a quiet child, textbook shy, self-conscious of her hair and later her height, not wanting to stand out, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. Ironically, being in a band went against her natural tendency to hide in the shadows. Her love of music drew her out of her cosy comfort shell, her need to put her talent out there making her get back up on stage each time. 

Doc entered, looking every inch the showman in his white shirt and dark grey waistcoat, his bushy moustache setting him apart from other men of his age. He enjoyed standing out, his days as a DJ giving his ego a full massage, as well as numerous girlfriends. That stopped when he met Rosita, who knew how to keep a man like Doc in check. “Five minutes and you’re on guys.”

Nicole needed the restroom. “Be right back,” she said, rushing from the room.

“Will she be back?” Waverly asked, wondering if nerves would get the better of their lead singer.

Dylan nodded. “She’s always like this. She’ll be fine once she starts playing. It’s this part she hates.”

They made their way out, standing at the edge of the stage as Doc introduced them. No Nicole. The band waited, instruments at the ready to perform. No Nicole. Troy looked over at Waverly, motioning with his head for her to go see where Nicole was. Waverly rolled her eyes, removing her guitar, heading off stage to find Nicole. One cubicle was locked in the restroom, Waverly banging on the door. “We can’t start without you. You can do this. You’ve got this. Come on. Let’s hit the road.”

The cubicle door opened. Not Nicole. The girl looked at Waverly wondering why she was giving her a pep talk, Waverly at a loss as to where their lead singer had got to. She wasn’t in the store room, or the bar area, there was nowhere else she could be. She returned to the stage, shrugging her shoulders, Troy now looking anxiously out at the crowd. “Hey guys, we’re just waiting on our new lead singer, Nicole Haught.”

Someone in the audience started a slow clap, more joining in, soon the entire crowd was shouting Haught over, and over, the noise deafening. Nicole appeared at the side, her head down, composing herself. As she got up on stage the crowd erupted, Nicole plugging in her guitar, returning to her position, waving to the crowd. “Sorry guys, needed my lucky pick. Are you ready to get hot?”

“Yes,” the crowd replied.

“How hot?” Nicole asked.

“Wayhaught,” the crowd roared. 

Nicole began their first song, Dark Side, the energy in the room electric, the crowd going wild. It lifted the band to perform at a new level, Nicole in her element, realising this was what she had wanted ever since she started playing the guitar. An audience listening to her songs and enjoying them. As they neared the end of their performance, Nicole was ready to play her favourite song, Of All the Girls. 

She nodded at Dylan to start the beat, the others joining in, Nicole introducing the song. The crowd was silent, waiting for Nicole to start singing. When she did several switched on the torches on their phones, waving them in the air, making it the most magical experience Nicole had witnessed. 

Even she had tears in her eyes at the end, not quite believing where she was, how much she longed for this acceptance. As she finished, the crowd yelled for more, whistling and clapping and foot stamping until the band played Dark Side again, and Break my Bones. The crowd wouldn’t leave until Nicole sang Of All the Girls again, Doc finally having to get up on stage to say the band would be performing again soon and to check the club’s website for future dates.

As the band left the stage a group had already formed by the steps, members of the crowd wanting selfies, autographs, one girl wanted Nicole’s phone number and a kiss. She declined both, looking over at Waverly who was having her photo taken with an extremely handsome man. Several asked if their music could be purchased online, if they were on YouTube, if they had an album coming out. It was all new to them, the attention, the adulation, the interest in their music. Not Shae’s music, not even Nicole’s, their music. 

Troy bought everyone a drink at the bar, a rare thing in itself. “We’ve done it. We’ve actually fucking gone and done it. We’re famous.”

“I counted four requests for our music,” Alex added. “And, some guy wants to book us for his wedding.”

Waverly laughed. “We’re wedding singers.”

“Rude,” Alex replied, winking at her. “We’re way too hot to be wedding singers. I reckon we could up our fee.”

“What, you get paid,” Waverly said. “No one mentioned money.”

“We’ve not exactly raked it in,” Nicole explained. “The last gig got us five hundred dollars, which went into a slush fund for equipment. I guess you should have the hundred dollars which is your share.”

“No, it’s fine. Just make sure I get a cut of the million dollars when we earn it.”

“Yeah, right,” Nicole replied. “I mean, sure.”

“So, when do we put ourselves on YouTube?” Waverly asked. “That would be the quickest way to get the music out there.”

“I bet someone’s already done that with tonight’s gig. I saw several with their phones up, filming.”

“I so want to do that,” Waverly said. “We could hire a studio, get someone to film us, make it look good.”

“All costs money,” Nicole replied. “Plus, what if this is just a one off. We might not be that good to spend a whole lot on promoting ourselves.”

Waverly placed her hands on her hips, pretending to look cross. “Do I have permission to shake you, Nicole extremely Haught.”

“You do, why?”

“Cos, you need to grab this. What we did tonight, what you did tonight tells us we’re onto something here. They like you, yes you, and hopefully us too. But, it’s you, the tall extremely attractive flame-haired lead singer of Wayhaught.”

“But, this might not last.”

“Right. It might not. It might be a fluke, or we got lucky, or, any number of factors. I suspect it’s more than that. And, I’m willing to bet my hundred dollars, which you never gave me, on this going somewhere.”

 _I wish I had her confidence,_ Nicole thought, as they returned to pack up their equipment. _Just a little bit of it. Just enough to believe we have a chance. Been in this business too long to hold out much hope on us ever making it._

Rosita was on the phone to Troy the next morning asking if they wanted to perform again in a few days. He accepted immediately, without consulting the others, knowing most lived as dull a life as he did. Another large crowd, Rosita upping the price of entry by a few dollars, everyone more than happy to pay. The band spotted a few familiar faces from their previous gig, coming up afterwards to praise them, quite a few gravitating to Nicole. Another woman approached, nervous, wanting to speak to Nicole not quite sure what to say.

“I really like Of All the Girls. It’s my favourite,” she began, unable to look at Nicole.

“Thanks. Wrote it for someone special.”

“Do you…would you take my number?” she asked, glancing up briefly, her head lowering again.

“I can, but I’m with someone right now. She might get jealous.”

“Oh, right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. Only, you’re amazing.”

“Would you like me to autograph anything for you?”

“My arm,” the woman replied. “I’m thinking of getting a tattoo with the lyrics of your song.”

Nicole’s mouth fell open, the pen in her hand shaking. Someone was about to commit her words to their body, to have them as a reminder forever. She thought long and hard which part of the song she should use, realising it no longer was her choice. “Which line do you like the most?” she asked, pen ready to inscribe another’s arm.

The woman looked into Nicole’s eyes. “Can’t believe you were put on this earth for me.”

Nicole scribbled the words, hoping her shaking hand wouldn’t be noticed, wondering how the woman would get her arm home without it smudging. She watched as the woman returned to her friends, showing them her arm, someone wrapping clear film around it to protect the inscription. She could see the other girls looking over in admiration, Nicole suddenly feeling like a rock goddess, letting it all go to her head.

Waverly tapped her on the butt, bringing her back down to earth. “I saw that, you little minx. So, now do you believe me when I say we need to get going on those videos.”

“Fine. We’ll do one, see how it goes. Nothing fancy.”

Waverly let out a cry in frustration. “I see I’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming to the altar at this rate. Okay, deal. We do one. If we get a decent number of hits, let’s say 5,000, we do another.”

“Deal,” Nicole said, without thinking.

Troy was tasked with finding a studio, Doc offering to help. He had friends, one of which had his own basement studio willing to let the band make their video which he would film. All for free, which kept Nicole happy. They agreed their first video would be Of All the Girls, as that seemed to get the biggest reaction from the crowd. Video made, uploaded, they sat anxiously waiting for the hits to start rolling in. Nothing. 

Four hours after posting the video, they had twenty hits, the band deciding they would phone friends and family get them to watch the video hoping to up the numbers. 

Two days after posting they had precisely one thousand and fifty hits, Nicole nodding her head knowing her hunch they weren’t good enough was true. Waverly was not giving up so soon, insisting the band should make a video of Dark Side, saying it had more appeal. Troy was up for it, Alex too, Dylan siding with Nicole, feeling they should simply let the new band grow organically. 

Having two older sisters, Waverly had learnt how to fight her corner, persisting until she got everyone’s agreement. Doc’s friend was happy to oblige, posting the second video, everyone hoping this would get them more views. The same thing happened. A few thousand saw it, almost all liking it, four giving it a thumbs down, which Nicole took personally. 

“I just don’t get it,” Waverly said, as she sat outside with Nicole gazing out at the lake. “I know our, your songs are great. Why aren’t we getting the hits?”

“Because, what we like, what a few hundred like at Rosita’s club doesn’t translate into the bigger world. Still, at least someone has my words on their arm, forever.”

“I’m not giving up that easily,” Waverly replied.


	20. the Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole doesn't want much in life, except Waverly...
> 
> Music mood: [Kasabian: L.S.F](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G0sEclM9JRw)

Nicole was busy cleaning one of her uncle’s boats the next morning when Waverly cycled past on her way to work. “I’ve been thinking,” Waverly said, dismounting, throwing her bike on the ground. “We need a strategy to get our music videos viewed by more people. Champ’s friend said he’d help us.”

“How?” Nicole asked, not liking the idea of Champ being involved in their band. 

“He’s into these things. I know we’ve only just launched as Wayhaught, and, Dylan has a point the band needs to grow organically, but if we throw everything we’ve got at it.”

“Not really a thrower either,” Nicole replied, tossing a sponge in the air, deliberately failing to catch it.

Waverly laughed, guessing Nicole had done it on purpose. “If I had half of what you have, in looks, in talent I would be doing a victory dance right about now.”

“You’ve got plenty. Count yourself lucky you don’t have red hair and skin that fries. Oh, and legs that don’t stop. Do you know how hard it is buying pants to fit them?”

Waverly jumped into the boat, rocking it enough to send Nicole into the cool water. The shock of hitting it made her gasp, grabbing for her baseball cap which was making its way to the bottom of the lake. “Consider that a wake-up call, Nicole not so hot now Haught.”

She reached over the side to help Nicole back on board, Nicole taking the opportunity to pull her in. The scream was heard by those on the shoreline, most looking over to see what was happening, Jake rushing out from the boathouse to check on Nicole. He found her in the water with Waverly, the pair splashing each other like kids. “Working are we,” he said, arms folded, waiting for them to swim towards the boat, helping them up.

“I was rescuing Waverly,” Nicole replied, sheepishly. 

“I was rescuing you,” Waverly corrected. “Damn, I need to change for work. I’ll text you with the details of Champ’s friend.”

Jake waited for Waverly to leave. “Double dating.”

Nicole gave him a quizzical look. “What? No. We need someone who knows how to get us more views for our music videos.”

“My sister’s pretty good with that stuff,” Jake offered.

“Your sister is fifteen.”

“Right, she gets what’s going on. I could ask her.”

“Anything to keep Waverly happy. She’s got this thing about us making it big and YouTube being our ticket to fame.”

Nicole had worked near water long enough to know never to keep a phone on her when cleaning her uncle’s boats. Waverly’s was in her bag that day, otherwise it probably would have met with the same fate as Nicole’s cap. Jake’s sister sent a text telling Nicole she would check out the videos and let her know if she could help. Waverly hadn’t been able to get hold of Champ, leaving a message to ask him to send her the details of his friend. She still hadn’t heard back by the time her shift ended four hours later.

Jake’s sister was waiting in the boathouse as Nicole entered. “I dig your songs,” she said, sucking on a straw inserted in a turquoise blue ice drink, her lips stained the same colour. “I’d need to get into your admin page.”

“Not sure how. I can find out, let you know. I can pay you twenty dollars.”

The girl’s eyes lit up. “I was doing it for free. But, sure twenty dollars,” she said, holding out her hand to shake on the deal.

Waverly called Champ. “Hey, I thought you said you’d send me the details.”

“Yeah, about that. Guy wants two hundred to do it. Listen babes, do you think this is worth all the effort? It’s just some small town band, with a few songs to promote.”

“It happens to be the band I’m playing in. So, yes, for your information it is important.”

“You coming over later?” Chuck asked. “I could get pizzas.”

“I’m good. Band practise.”

Waverly hung up, knowing she had lied to her boyfriend, annoyed he was attempting to cramp her style. He had a tendency to blow hot and cold, one minute enthusiastic about her efforts to get into Penn, the next dismissive of her attending, telling her she would be wasting good years of her life pursuing a degree which she might never use. If she had listened to him, she might have been swayed to drop her studies, get a job in Scranton, not amount to much. Except, Waverly could never be called a quitter. And, someone telling her to quit only drove her to work harder for what she really wanted.

Jake’s sister called Nicole. “So, like your keywords are all wrong, and you’re not niche enough. You’re totally missing your target. Whoever set this up for you didn’t know what they were doing. I’ve changed a few things, shortened the video length, it should get you more hits.”

“Wow, that’s great. I’ll give Jake your money. How many more hits are we talking?”

“Well, your first video is up to seven thousand, your second is catching up fast. If you do more videos it will build your following.”

Nicole couldn’t believe how many had viewed their videos, repeatedly checking the numbers against each song, realising their music was finally reaching a wider audience. They were recognised, their band known, all their hard work paying off. She would have died happy at this point, texting the others to get them to check the numbers in case she was dreaming. This was it. This was their big break. Except, it wasn’t.

To Nicole, a big break was combined views topping ten thousand. _This is enough, more than enough,_ she thought. _Waverly will be pleased she was right._ She was surprised Waverly hadn’t called, sending a second text to reaffirm the good news. Her phone rang, Waverly’s voice in her ear, not sounding as chirpy as usual. “Hi, see I told you we could do it.”

“You were right. Plus, Jake’s sister is now officially IT manager for the band.”

“Isn’t she like twelve?”

“Fifteen. Seems to know what she’s doing. You okay? I thought you’d be screaming down the phone.”

“Kind of. No, actually. Champ. Thinks I shouldn’t be in the band, or getting a degree for that matter.”

“I didn’t realise,” Nicole replied. “You still want to be in the band, don’t you?”

“It’s not down to him what I do. I’m loving the band. Finally get to do something cool, rather than bury my head in books all the time. I’m not giving that up for anyone.”

“Why doesn’t he want you to go to Penn?”

Waverly hesitated, not sure if she should be confiding in Nicole about Champ, sighing, unable to hold back. “You know, the usual small town attitude.”

“I think what you’re doing is amazing. You’re clever enough to have got into Penn. And, look what you’ve done with the band in only a few weeks. Beyond amazing.”

“Steady, Haught,” Waverly replied, her voice lifting. “You’re fangirling me.”

Nicole’s cheeks took on the colour of burning coals, realising she was indeed fangirling one Waverly Earp. “Gotta go. Boats to clean, baseball cap to retrieve from the bottom of the lake thanks to you.”

Rosita was serving drinks to her afternoon regulars, Doc running through the figures for the past month. “We could do with a few more Wayhaught nights. Second gig was our best night’s takings this year. Reckon, if we get them in once a month, we’ll have enough for a deposit on that holiday home you’ve always wanted.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Rosita replied, handing an opened beer to him, “what if I get Mercedes to come check them out. She’s in the business, could point them in the right direction.”

Doc shook his head. “And have her steal them from us. No, we hold onto Wayhaught for as long as we can. Let’s not rush anything. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Rosita replied, wishing she had kept her thoughts on Mercedes to herself.

They had to turn people away for the band’s third outing as Wayhaught, realising their popularity was growing beyond the capacity of the club. Tickets were introduced at twenty dollars per head, in an effort to control numbers. The band’s cut was a quarter of that, the most they had ever earned in one night in all the years performing as The Butterflies. Nicole was in her element, a sea of faces looking back at her, chanting her name, wanting her, wanting what she had to put into the world.

Troy did his best to keep Shae away, she sussing something was going on. She demanded to come see how the band was doing, Troy eventually relenting, driving her to the venue, not telling the others. It was Waverly who spotted her first, the shock of her in the audience making her miss several chords. No one noticed, apart from Shae who smirked at Waverly’s obvious lack of ability.

The show over, she made her way to the side of the stage, waiting with the others to congratulate Nicole on her performance. “I am going to say this, and please don’t take it the wrong way, but, I really wanted you to suck. And, I really believed you would suck. But…”

“It’s okay,” Nicole replied. “I know I suck. I’m not you. I’ll never be as good as you.”

“Nicole, you are ten times better than me. No, twenty times. If I hadn’t been so desperate to be the lead singer, I could have saved my voice and let you front the band. I’m sorry.”

Nicole hugged her friend. “So, you think the new line-up works?”

Shae nodded. “I do. Pains me to say it, but I do. It works. The music works. And, Waverly’s super cute with her guitar. Clever move.”

Robin tapped Shae on the back. “Mind if I join in? So proud of my girls.”

Shae went to find Troy leaving Robin to congratulate his friend. “I bet Shae was telling you you’re not as good as her.”

“The opposite. Feel bad for her. It’s her band.”

“Trust me, this ain’t Shae’s band anymore. It’s yours. I didn’t know you could sing like that. And, Waverly Earp is a great addition. So, you made a move on her yet?”

Nicole thumped Robin’s arm, looking round in case Waverly was in earshot. “No. She’s with Champ remember. We’re just friends.”

“Just friends. Okay. You know she was checking you out on stage. Couldn’t keep her eyes off your ass.”

“No. Really? Was she? But, she’s not. I mean, she’s with Champ.”

“She might be with Champ, but her eyes are on you.”

Nicole looked over, Waverly meeting her gaze, smiling, returning her attention to the person wanting an autograph. “How do I find out if she’s into…”

“Girls. You. I could ask her, if you like,” Robin offered. “Casually whisper in her ear if she likes you with, or without clothes.”

“Don’t,” Nicole exclaimed a little too loudly, causing a few close to them to look at her. She lowered her voice. “It’s fine. I don’t want her to feel like that’s why she’s in the band.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Waverly was quiet in the car back to Harmony, Nicole glancing over at her resting her head on the seat, eyes closed. She was blissfully content in the knowledge Waverly was with her that evening, checking her out according to Robin, wondering how she could find out if it was more than simple appreciation of her back, or something more. She shook Waverly gently to let her know they were outside her house, Waverly opening her eyes, stretching, thanking her for the lift. 

It happened before she realised what was happening, Waverly leaning over to kiss her on the cheek, Nicole turning her head at precisely the wrong moment. Their lips met, neither breaking away, Waverly letting Nicole continue. She wanted to stop, except she didn’t. She didn’t know how to stop, her hand reaching up to Waverly’s neck, pulling her closer, feeling no resistance. Better than any success the band was having, better than any dumb video, better than any kiss she’d ever experienced, which wasn’t many. It didn’t matter. 

She pulled away, scanning Waverly’s face for any sign of rejection, finding none. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…Waverly, I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Waverly replied, stroking a few strands of hair away from Nicole’s face. “I’m not. See you tomorrow, hot lips.”

Nicole sat in her car for over an hour, unable to process all the changes in her life. From nothing, she had everything and it felt amazing. She couldn’t sleep that night, her usual dreams of rock stardom more difficult to conjure in her head, except the one where she was making love to Waverly against a wall, hot love, the heat of the evening and their passion allowing them to be completely naked, completely vulnerable. 

She was distracted all morning, thinking about what happened in the car the night before, deciding she should check with Waverly where they stood. _Probably a mistake,_ she thought, _a one off. She’s with Champ anyway. Just hope she doesn’t quit the band._ “Hi, it’s me,” she said, “can we talk.”

“Sure. What about?” Waverly asked.

“Was…what we did. Was that okay with you?”

“Why?”

Nicole paused, expecting Waverly to say no, hoping she would say yes. To be asked a question went against all the scenarios she had played out in her head before dialling Waverly’s number. “Why? Oh, only you’re with Champ.”

“I don’t have to be.”

Nicole’s heart rate increased. “So, you’re saying…and, what exactly do we have here?”

“Not sure yet,” Waverly replied. “I’m hoping you could tell me.”

“I’d like to do it again.”

“Would you now? And, what would you do to me?”

Nicole nearly dropped her phone. “I…I. I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

She hung up, placing her phone on the shelf running to the lake to cool off, fully clothed. When she returned to the boathouse, Waverly had sent a text asking if she wanted to practise some more after work. Nicole didn’t know what practise she meant, guitar or lips, both equally good. She was a nervous wreck by the time Waverly showed up, unable to keep her eyes off her, hands in the pockets of her shorts to stop them grabbing Waverly, pulling her into the boathouse, ravishing her against one of the walls.

They walked to Waverly’s house, Nicole wheeling Waverly’s bike for her, Waverly talking about something, some random incident at Terra’s. Nicole pretended to listen, all the while her mind racing. Key in the door, door closed, Waverly taking Nicole’s hand, leading them to her bedroom, pointing to the bed. “I need to change,” Waverly said, removing her work tee shirt, revealing an electric blue bra underneath. 

Nicole’s eyes took in every detail.


	21. the Hits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly likes to boss Nicole around...
> 
> Music mood: [Linkin Park: Somewhere I Belong](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsCD5XCu6CM)

“I’m guessing you like what you see,” Waverly teased, selecting another tee shirt from the drawer. “Wouldn’t normally do this, but I kind of figured it was okay with you.”

Nicole continued to stare, praising the Universe for eyes, for what her eyes were being allowed to see. Waverly joined her on the bed, Nicole’s eyes now focused exclusively on her lips. So close, so far away. “Well, I’m waiting,” Waverly said. “Pa will be in soon. If you want to, you’d better get on with it.”

“Right,” Nicole replied, taken aback by Waverly’s directness, cupping Waverly’s cheeks in her hand, their softness delighting her fingers. Nothing to be rushed, everything in its own time. She brought her lips to Waverly’s, brushing them softly against her own, not wanting to miss any sensation. She felt Waverly’s hand on her neck, pulling her in, wanting more, wanting her to be more forceful. That wasn’t her style. She liked to take her time, explore, get to know, find the right path to the heart, Waverly’s heart. Except, Waverly wanted something different, perhaps used to others not being so considerate, or sensitive. 

She felt Waverly’s hand pushing on her neck, pushing her down, going with it for fear of putting up too much resistance. Too fast for her, but still enjoyable, the determination to get her horizontal erotic in its own way. Lying back, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, Waverly was now straddling her, hands on Nicole’s cheeks, kissing her with a passion she’d not experienced before, sensing Waverly wanted this as much as she did.

She felt Waverly’s hand find the edge of her tee shirt, slipping underneath, searching her body, locating what it desired, Nicole gasping as fingers circled a now erect nipple, exploring, wanting to know what reaction she was having on the person she had pinned to the bed. Her other hand was pulling at the bottom of the shirt, in a vain attempt to remove it, Nicole in two minds whether to assist, or let her struggle. She liked what was happening to her, letting another have their way, wanting her, wanting what she had to offer.

A frustrated huff, Waverly sat up, pulling her own tee shirt over her head, revealing her electric blue bra once more. “How far do you want to go?” she asked, her face emotionless as her hand reached round her back, unfastening the item of clothing, throwing it to one side. “I don’t mind, just we only have about fifteen minutes, so if it’s everything we’d better be quick.”

Nicole forced herself to sit up, Waverly grabbing at the freed tee shirt, lifting it over her head. As she went to remove Nicole’s bra, she felt hands on hers. “Waverly, stop. This isn’t a race. We don’t have to do everything the first time.”

Waverly paused, her cheeks the only part of her face revealing emotion. “Oh, right. Sorry, only I’m used to getting on with it. You know. I just thought it would be the same.”

“It’s so much better if you take your time. I’d like to say I’m an expert, but I’m not. But, I do know we’ll both enjoy this a whole lot more if we slow it down a little.”

“You’re my first,” Waverly replied, no longer sure what she should be doing. 

“Even more reason to not rush. Look, I would take you against that wall right now, but the build-up, the tension is as much a part of this as fucking like conejas.”

Waverly gave her a quizzical look. “Like what?”

“Rabbits. A dream I had, which may have involved you and a house in Spain.”

Waverly gasped. “I’ve had dreams about you too. You had to do everything I told you to do to me. Including…”

She whispered in Nicole’s ear, it being her turn to gasp. “Okay, never had you into that. Makes my dream seem quite tame by comparison. Seriously, are you into that?”

“Don’t know,” Waverly replied, trying to imagine what it might be like with Nicole. “Won’t know until I try.”

Nicole’s eyes fell on Waverly’s chest, one hand reaching up to brush her fingers lightly against skin, not aware of Waverly’s eyes fluttering at the sensation, her mouth falling open slightly. “Oh, God, that’s so good. I’ve never been touched like that. It normally feels like I’m being kneaded like a ball of dough.”

“Oh, I need you alright,” Nicole replied, bringing her other hand up, applying the same pressure to the left side, Waverly letting out a moan. “Is this okay? I can stop if you like.”

“Do not stop. Whatever you do, do not stop. It’s…it’s…oh, God, how can it feel this good?”

“Musician hands.”

“You can musician me anytime, Nicole Haught. Oh, God, oh no, I don’t think I can hold on.”

Nicole quickly removed her hands, not wanting to excite Waverly too much. The cry she let out told her she had made the wrong move, returning both hands, Waverly unbuttoning her shorts, dragging Nicole’s right hand towards the now open clothing. “I know you want to wait, but I can’t. Seriously, if you don’t do something right now, you’re going to have to watch me do it.”

Nicole obliged, slipping her hand inside, finding Waverly wet in anticipation, becoming aroused herself. She moved quickly, feeling Waverly’s body respond to her touch, the rocking of her hips creating just the right rhythm between them. She could feel how close Waverly was, how in tune they were, even on their first attempt. Allowing her movements to carry Waverly away, she watched as her head reared back, mouth falling open, a guttural moan leaving her lips. 

“I’m guessing you like.”

“I like. Thank you. That was…sorry, I know you said wait, but when I get horny.”

“No, don’t apologise. Glad to be of service.”

“Service,” Waverly repeated, her eyes bearing into Nicole. “You are amazing. But, you can’t see it, which may be why you’re amazing. You’re not arrogant, or full of it, like Shae. If only you could see yourself. And, you act like you don’t deserve this.”

Nicole placed her hands on Waverly’s hips. “I don’t. I’m nothing. I’ve done nothing with my life except mend boats for my uncle and help kids put on their skis. I play in a small town band, that’s going nowhere and I haven’t had a girlfriend in over three years. And, even that didn’t last too long.”

Waverly had Nicole by the shoulders, shaking her. “Wake up. Go after what you want, no matter how scary it is. Life’s too short to wait. If you want it go get it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Not getting it.”

“Right. But, at least you can look back and say you tried. Don’t waste what you’ve got. Those fingers of yours are your ticket out of here.”

“Only if you’re with me,” Nicole mouthed silently. “I guess. I’ve spent so long not expecting much, don’t really know any other way of operating.”

“That stops right here, right now,” Waverly instructed, giving Nicole one final shake. “I’m not letting you off the hook until you’re a superstar, driving a Ferrari through town.”

“Lamborghini. Always wanted a matt black one. Roads aren’t that great around Harmony.”

Waverly cried out in frustration. “For every positive thing you say, I’ll let you do what you just did to me, how’s that. And, if you’re really positive I might do that to you.”

 _God, she’s pushy,_ Nicole thought, _but I think I’m falling in love with her already._ “Thought we were going to take things slow,” she said, Waverly glaring at her. “Sorry, Fine. I will drive you in my black Lamborghini around Harmony. How’s that?”

“Good, but won’t get my fingers. Do better.”

“You sure you shouldn’t be a teacher?” Nicole teased, earning another glare from Waverly. “Fine, fine. I will buy that house on the opposite bank and make it our home.”

“I love that house. It’s my favourite,” Waverly added, her fingers going to Nicole’s top button of her shorts. “I’ll be quick. I so want to do this.”

They heard the front door close, Waverly’s father calling out to check if his daughter was home yet, Waverly jumping off Nicole before she had a chance to open her zip. “Crap. Sorry, I promise to return the favour.”

Nicole hastily closed her shorts, retrieving her tee shirt from the floor, wondering how she was going to explain her presence in Waverly’s bedroom. Their music lessons usually took place in her uncle’s house, in the basement where the sound didn’t travel as far. Waverly was already at the door. “Give me a few minutes then slip out. I’ll distract him.”

Nicole nodded, listening to Waverly strike up a conversation with her father, opening the door to her bedroom as quietly as she could, slipping out. She sat in one of the chairs behind her house, staring out at the lake, lost, utterly lost. She wanted Waverly, wanted to be the confident go-getter Waverly clearly wanted her to be, except, that wasn’t her. She knew Waverly was right. She knew she had remained in Harmony too long, its attitudes, its slow way of doing things seeping into her bones, ageing her prematurely.

She could see herself in another ten years having not amounted to much, still tending boats, still helping out at the ski resort, still in Harmony, probably without Waverly. _Fuck it,_ she thought. _No harm in trying._ She checked her YouTube video views, her jaw dropping. Of All the Girls had now been viewed twenty three thousand times. She phoned Jake’s sister. “Whatever you did, it’s working. Have you seen the numbers?”

“Yeah, I may have entered your two videos in a competition. Worth a try. No harm in trying, right.”

“Right. Thanks. Owe you.”

“If you make another video,” Jake’s sister suggested, “I think you’ll get even more views.”

“Okay. You don’t fancy being our manager too?”

Another video made, the number of views steadily increasing, Nicole spent her time dodging Waverly’s father, writing new songs, practising for their next gigs. They were receiving requests to play beyond Rosita’s club, four new venues confirmed, their share of ticket sales beyond all their imaginations. It was crazy, the amount of money they were seeing, enough to upgrade their amps, Nicole purchasing the purple Ibanez guitar she’d dreamed of owning for years, never having enough until now.

The Scranton Times-Tribune ran a lengthy article on the band members, tracing their music careers from hopeful teenagers to successful musicians. Their photograph at the top of the article made the piece, Nicole in the centre of the group, purple guitar between her legs, Waverly behind her, the only person with her hand on Nicole’s shoulder.

Nicole gazed into Waverly’s eyes as they lay naked on her bed, after another steamy session, beads of sweat on Nicole’s forehead. “What did I do to deserve you, Waverly Earp?”

“Not sure. Guess I’m into hot rock chics more than I thought.”

Nicole raised herself onto her elbow. “You’re not with Champ anymore, right?”

Waverly shook her head. “Don’t think I ever really was with him. I think he wants someone who will bake bread, mend his clothes, give him kids. Doesn’t really matter who that is. Me going to Penn would have split us. That, and I hate baking.”

Nicole had forgotten about Penn. “Will you let me visit you?”

“Certainly not,” Waverly teased. “Only rock stars can visit me. Of course you can. I don’t want to miss out on all this hot sex while I’m studying. It’ll help me relax.”

“What will you do about the band?”

Waverly hadn’t thought that far. “Not sure. We’ll figure something out. It’s too important.”

“But, won’t it get in the way?”

Waverly removed her hand from Nicole’s body. “What did I say about being Miss Positive. No more fingers for you today.”

Nicole couldn’t see how it could work. Waverly at Penn, the band playing mostly in Scranton, a distance too far for her to collect Waverly each time they needed her to perform. Troy was thinking the same, suggesting they start looking for a new band member. Nicole knew what he was hinting at. Shae. Get Shae back, not singing, just playing. But then, it would no longer be Nicole’s band. They all knew Shae was the more dominant, that Nicole would defer to her, that Shae would probably want to include her music in the mix, dilute what was now working.

Waverly was dressing, Nicole remaining on the bed, gazing at her beautiful girlfriend. “What if I move nearer?”

“You live next door. That’s pretty close.”

“I meant, when you go to college. I could find a job, get a room somewhere.”

Waverly crawled back on the bed. “That’s really sweet of you, but it’ll take you away from the band.”

“True, but it will mean I’m with you.”

“I’m not letting you miss this opportunity. We’ve got something here, I can feel it.”

“Where?”

“Right here,” Waverly said, placing a finger over her heart.

“I was hoping you felt it here,” Nicole teased, moving Waverly’s finger down. “Ward won't be home for another hour. We could do what you want me to do to you.”

Waverly contemplated the offer. “God, what is it with you? I simply have to look into your eyes and I melt. Okay, but not too tight.”

Nicole grinned. “You can’t help yourself. And, I’m in charge now.”

Jake’s sister scrolled through her messages, stopping at one from the competition organisers informing her Dark Side was in the final three, asking if they could promote the song. She replied, accepting on the band’s behalf, texting Nicole to let her know. The viewing numbers for the three videos were rising steadily, each now in the high twenties, a respectable number, enough to make the band feel they had achieved something with their music. It was all about to get a little crazy.

Two hours after allowing the competition organisers to promote Dark Side their video had been viewed no less than sixty thousand times. Each time Jake’s sister refreshed the YouTube page the number had jumped. She phoned Nicole, wanting her to know. Nicole didn’t want to be interrupted, letting it go to voicemail. It rang again, and again, Waverly suggesting she might want to answer it to get rid of whoever was disturbing them. A breathless Nicole answered. “Can it wait, I’m in the middle of something.”

“Yeah, like check your videos.”

Nicole called up the page. “Fuck. Oh, fuck. That can’t be right.”

Waverly was squirming on the bed. “What’s happening? Let me see.”

Nicole laughed. “You won’t be able to. Not like that. Dark Side has over eighty thousand hits. Fuck.”

“Are you sure?” Waverly asked.

“Pretty sure. Oh, fuck Of All the Girls is even higher. Waverly, we’ve done it. We’re famous.”


	22. the Hacienda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly is in no mood to share Nicole...
> 
> Music mood: [Portugal. The Man: Feel It Still](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBkHHoOIIn8)

The competition organisers needed photos, preferably of the band playing, Nicole contacting Rosita to check if she could accommodate. She was only too pleased, suggesting they arrive early for their next gig that Friday to allow time for the photographer to take all the necessary shots. 

There was a buzz of excitement as they waited near the bar for the photographer to arrive, each band member having donned what they considered fitted with their new sexier image. A young guy rushed in ten minutes late, apologising, introducing himself. Photos taken, they chatted for a while, inviting him to stay. He checked his watch, saying he could spare half an hour, looking forward to hearing the band live. “I’ve listened to your songs a few times. You’ve definitely got something. So hard to find new bands with your talent. You got a manager?”

Nicole shook her head. “Never needed one.”

“You should think about it,” the guy replied. “You’ll need one if you win. There’ll be a lot of interest in you.”

Nicole took on board these words, wondering where they would find a manager, what they would do for them, how her life had become more complicated. Fans were beginning to arrive, the venue packed by the time Wayhaught jumped on stage, the crowd cheering as Nicole began their set. The photographer stayed until the end, too caught up in the music to pull himself away, waiting to congratulate Nicole afterwards. 

Autographs signed, photos with fans taken, even the photographer snapping a few more shots of Wayhaught interacting with those who had shown up to see them. Waverly collected beers from the bar for the band, Rosita joining them to celebrate their night. The photographer decided to take a few more shots of Nicole and Waverly together, repeating to Nicole she should seriously look for a manager.

Rosita waited for the guy to leave, motioning to Nicole to join her in one of the quieter booths. “Listen, don’t tell Doc I said this, but I have a friend in the industry who might be able to help you. She’s based in New York, been in the industry for years. Knows pretty much everyone. I can give you her details if you’re looking for a manager. She’s not cheap, but she’s good. And, good costs.”

“Thanks. Why not tell Doc?”

Rosita looked around, moving a little closer. “Doc and Mercedes fell out years ago. He’s held a grudge ever since.”

“Right. Okay, I won’t mention it.”

“Just tell her I gave you her details.”

Nicole called Mercedes the next morning, having discussed with the band if this was the right thing to do. They all agreed there was no harm in having a conversation, see what having a manager entailed, whether they actually needed one. Mercedes was dismissive initially, believing the band too small for her to consider. She said she would check out their videos and let them know if she could offer anything. A week went by, no contact by Mercedes, Nicole assuming they were too insignificant for her to bother about.

Waverly finished work early, cycling to the boathouse, asking where Jake was. “On an errand,” she replied. “Just me. Will that do?”

Waverly closed the door to the shed. “I guess so. Which wall would you like to do it against?”

Nicole was grateful she wasn’t drinking anything at the time, otherwise it would have sprayed out her mouth. “What, here? You want to here?”

Waverly nodded. “I’ve been imagining what it would be like. I’m so horny right now.”

“You’re kinda always horny. Which is good. Not complaining. Horny is very good.”

Nicole checked the door, pulling the latch across to make sure they wouldn’t be disturbed, grabbing Waverly by the hand, leading her to the back, pinning her against the wall. They made quick work of their clothes, having learnt to move to the main event in Waverly’s bedroom always conscious the clock was ticking till Ward came home. Waverly pushed Nicole away. “It’s my turn,” she said, switching positions, running her tongue down the middle of Nicole’s body, pausing when she reached her destination. “I want to hear you scream.”

Nicole’s hands went to Waverly’s hair, holding on as wave after wave of pleasure hit her, building to a point she thought her legs would give out. “Oh God…oh, God…Waverly…I’m so close.”

She felt her body shudder as a giant wave of pleasure hit unexpectedly, Waverly’s name leaving her lips with such a force it could easily have been mistaken for a scream. She panted, as Waverly continued to pleasure her, another wave building, hitting even harder than the first. She pulled Waverly upright, clinging to her as her body shook, smaller waves continuing to ripple along nerves. “That was…that was…I needed that. You’re incredible. Do you know that?”

Waverly beamed. “I’m getting used to your body. I can feel the changes. You’re incredible.”

“No, you’re incredible.”

The door rattled. “Hello, anyone in there?”

“Shit. That’s Jake’s sister,” Nicole said, grabbing her clothes. “Just a minute. Be right out.”

Waverly giggled. “That’s my tee shirt.”

Nicole looked at it on her. “Sorry, finders keepers. Wear mine for now. We’ll swap later.”

Nicole unlocked the door, Jake’s sister looking at her curiously wondering why she looked so red in the face. “Err, have you checked your messages. Only, you kinda won.”

“What? No. Seriously. Fuck, sorry. Seriously. As in…”

“Yep. As in. Oh, and check the view numbers on your videos. It’s crazy.”

Nicole was already on the site, her eyes not believing the new numbers. “Holy, that’s impossible. Waverly, look. How can we have that many views?”

“National competition finalist, now winner. They want you to do an interview.”

Waverly had her own phone out, her mouth open, Jake’s sister wondering why she was wearing the boat hire tee shirt Nicole and Jake usually wore. “Oh fuck. Sorry. But, oh fuck. Dark Side has half a million hits. Oh fuck, Of All the Girls four hundred and fifty three thousand. Guess they like them.”

Nicole phoned the competition organisers, putting it on speakerphone, letting them hear the good news. The prize money was ten thousand dollars, Nicole nearly dropping the phone not realising this sum was involved. She would split it equally between the band members, but knew already she would give half of hers to Jake’s sister as a thank you. She waited for her to leave, bolting the door again. “I’m seriously shaking,” she said, grabbing Waverly, hugging her. “It’s…it’s too good to be true.”

“No it’s not,” Waverly scolded. “You’ve simply been living below your ability. What you have now, what we have is what you should have had ages ago. It simply took a little push from a pushy person like me. I’m nothing if not pushy.”

Nicole tangoed them towards the back of the shed once more. “I’m enjoying pushy Waverly. Now, let me return the favour from earlier. I’m dying to hear you scream my name.”

Waverly winked. “Oh, I will. I definitely will.”

Mercedes was on the phone to Nicole that evening. “Congratulations. Your YouTube presence is quite impressive. No other social media though, tut tut. We need to sort that out and see who might be interested in you. You’re still quite small, a little too small for who I usually take on, but I can see you need my help.”

“So, you’ll manage us?” Nicole asked. “We don’t have a lot of money.”

“I know. I’m doing this as a favour for Rosita. Plus, I usually work on a percentage of any record label deal I can secure for you.”

“A record label. That’s beyond what any of us ever dreamed.”

“Surely you must know you’re good,” Mercedes said, realising the band, Nicole in particular, was fairly green. “I mean, those viewing numbers are telling you you’re good.”

“I guess. Only, we’ve only just formed Wayhaught. It’s still all quite new.”

“Well, get used to fame honey. It’ll be coming at you fast. Now, we need to meet. How about I drive to Scranton, meet the band, hear you play.”

“We’re booked at the Hacienda at the weekend. I could let them know you’re coming, if you can make it.”

“I’ll make it. Send me the venue details.”

The Hacienda was a much larger venue than Rosita’s holding four times the number, charging a lot more for entry. They only allowed bands to perform who could fill the place to capacity, recognising Wayhaught was a band they needed to get on their stage having heard on the grapevine how well Rosita was doing out of them. The queue to get in was round the block by the time Mercedes arrived, striding towards two burly guys at the entrance, telling them she was Wayhaught’s manager. 

One guy said something in his earpiece, checking out Mercedes as he did so, her designer suit and stilettos out of place in a venue like the Hacienda. Nicole emerged from the doorway, a few people at the front of the queue recognising her, one girl waving to get her attention. A ripple went through the crowd, heads peering round bodies to catch a glimpse of her, she focusing on the woman before her. Not who she expected, a little too corporate for her, a little too polished. She motioned for her to follow, the guys letting her through, Mercedes checking out Nicole as she walked behind her, liking what she saw.

The band had been upgraded to an actual dressing room, rather than a store cupboard, everyone introducing themselves, equally suspicious of Mercedes Gardner. “So guys,” she began. “I’m here to offer my services. I know you’re not loaded, that doesn’t matter right now. What matters is getting a record label to bite and getting your name out there.”

“Who else do you represent?” Troy asked.

“The Mojos. Deep Crush. Sneak Preview. Lucy and the Droids. Alex Maddow.”

“Impressive,” Troy replied, realising this woman managed some big names. “Guess we fit with them. I mean we have Nicole.”

Mercedes scanned her eyes over Nicole, smiling to acknowledge she still liked what she saw. “Nicole is your ticket to success. She has the looks, the talent and hopefully the temperament to make it in this business. I don’t deal with divas, or those out to massage their own egos. Work hard, play hard and you’ll get the results. With my help of course.”

Waverly could sense Mercedes was interested in more than simply managing the band. Her eyes alternated between Nicole, who seemed oblivious to Mercedes flirting, and Mercedes who was making it pretty clear Nicole was on her radar. She watched as Mercedes approached Nicole, striking up conversation about her purple Ibanez, her fingers accidentally brushing against Nicole’s. 

“Nicole, can I borrow you for a moment, please?” Waverly asked, grabbing Nicole’s hand, dragging her outside. She waited until the dressing room door closed. “Seriously, you’re going to let her do that to you?”

“What? Do what?” Nicole replied, unsure what Waverly was implying. 

“Let her flirt with you. I’m in the room, remember. I’m not good with my girlfriend being on someone else’s radar.”

Nicole stared at Waverly. “Your girlfriend. Am I your girlfriend?”

“Of course you’re my girlfriend,” Waverly snapped, poking Nicole in the stomach. “I wouldn’t let you do all the things you do to me if you weren’t.”

“I’m your girlfriend. You’re mine too.”

Waverly folded her arms, tapping her foot. “Then act like one. Go in there and tell Mercedes you’re spoken for. Or, else.”

“You know you’re even more sexy when you’re mad. And, jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I’m territorial. And, you’re mine. So, get in there and tell her. Now.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll tell her,” Nicole replied, pausing before opening the door. “Would you fight her for me?”

The shove to her back told her Waverly would probably fight her first, and win, if she didn’t get in there and make it clear to Mercedes she was not on the market when it came to anything other than performing in the band. Nicole sheepishly took her seat, Mercedes handing back her guitar, Waverly giving her dagger eyes. “Err, can I speak with you?” she said, looking over at Waverly, then the rest of the band members. 

Mercedes smiled. “Of course, honey. Let’s step outside.”

“Err, listen,” Nicole began. “You see…it’s like this, I’m kind of with Waverly.”

“Kind of,” Mercedes repeated. “Not actually with her. Honey, I can’t deny I like what I see. And, you have all the looks. I could really see us going places.”

“No. You see,” Nicole corrected, her voice shaking, realising it was the first time she had ever admitted to anyone she was with a woman. “I’m definitely with Waverly. As in, she’s my girlfriend.”

“I see,” Mercedes said, stroking Nicole’s arm. “Doesn’t make you off limits. You really do need someone like me to take you under their wing. Teach you things.”

“I’m really okay with just Waverly teaching me things,” Nicole replied, realising that’s not what she should have said. “Can we keep this purely business.”

“Of course, honey. For now, sweetie, for now.”

Nicole let Mercedes enter the room first, Waverly glaring at both of them, Nicole smiling in the vain hope of reassuring her girlfriend. _That’s my girlfriend,_ she thought. _Waverly Earp is my girlfriend. I actually have the sexiest, most beautiful girlfriend in the world, who is giving me dagger eyes. Guess she does like me._

That night’s gig was one of their best, Mercedes more than impressed with the band, congratulating them afterwards, buying them champagne. She was staying at the main hotel in town, slipping Nicole her room number in case she changed her mind. She advised she would be in contact once she put together a package to promote the band, kissing everyone on the cheek, lingering a little too long on Nicole’s, her hand reaching round her back, Waverly’s eyes boring into them.

“Did you tell her,” she snapped as Mercedes disappeared.

“I did. I told her you’re my girlfriend. She’s pretty full on.”

“I don’t like her. She’s after something. And, by the looks of it, that something is you.”

“I won’t let anyone come between us,” Nicole replied. “If it becomes difficult we find someone else. Promise.”

“I’m not sharing you. You hear me. I’m not sharing you.”

“How can I go with anyone else when you’re the only one I want? I gave up the chance to travel with Wynonna so I could stay in Harmony just to be near you. I go to Terra’s to buy apple pie, just to have you serve me. If I hadn’t been so nervous I would have asked you out ages ago.”

“I wondered why you kept coming in for pie. Thought you preferred the taste over the one the beach café sells.”

“I do. And, a certain waitress who serves me.”


	23. the Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mercedes can be very persuasive. And, so can Waverly...
> 
> Music mood: [Gnarls Barkley: Crazy (Cover) by Daniela Andrade](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fzxag7U3Snk)
> 
> .

Mercedes was on a mission. Rarely did someone as talented as Nicole fall into her lap so easily. She called Rosita to thank her, saying she would take the band under her wing, get them in front of the world, asking if Rosita could meet her before she departed for New York. Rosita was hesitant. She adored Mercedes, their close friendship fading after Doc found out. Rosita wondered whether she had made the right choice between her lovers, whether she should have stayed with Mercedes, given up Doc. But then, Mercedes wasn’t the settling kind, off on fancy business trips around the world, living the life, enjoying the thrills and spills of fame, or management thereof.

“Just one drink,” Mercedes insisted. “For old time’s sake. I miss your beautiful face.”

“Okay, one. I’ll meet you at the hotel in an hour.”

Mercedes was nothing if not persistent. “I’ll have your favourite ready.”

Rosita slipped out without Doc knowing, heading towards the Hilton, spotting Mercedes at the bar. She looked tired, still immaculately dressed, still with that cheeky smile that got her most things. They raised their glasses to old times, to fun times, to times when they were freer to do what they pleased. As much as Mercedes would have been happy to let Rosita ride on her coattail, she knew what they had would have faltered eventually, Mercedes preferring those who could walk beside her, not behind. 

She was curious about Nicole, the real reason for persuading Rosita to join her at the hotel. “She’s good,” she began. “Just doesn’t know how good she is yet. That will change once I put her name out.”

“I knew you’d like her. The band’s taken off with Nicole now the lead. How they never realised before beats me.”

“Often the way,” Mercedes replied, sipping her whiskey. “Talent overshadowed by others. She doesn’t come across as arrogant, which is refreshing. I like that. Allows me to do my job. Her girlfriend could be a problem.”

“Shae? I don’t think so. They're no longer together. I don’t think they were ever really a thing. Too different. Shae simply wanted all the attention. If anyone, she’s the one who cramped Nicole’s style.”

Mercedes eyed Rosita curiously. “I meant Waverly. I get the impression she has Nicole wrapped round her little finger.”

“I wouldn’t worry about Waverly. She’s off to university soon. She’ll be out of the picture for quite a while.”

“Interesting. She’s not essential for the band, even though she’s part of the name. No matter, we can always find a replacement. No, the real star is Nicole. She’s the one I need to nurture.”

Rosita smirked. “Oh, I see. Nurture. Is that your code now for getting her into bed? I know you too well M. Your nurturing skills.”

Mercedes raised her glass. “To nurturing. And, boy do I want to nurture that one.”

“Just don’t hurt her,” Rosita warned. 

Nicole pulled into Terra’s car park, their new routine since they started seeing each other, not wanting to say goodnight until they absolutely had to, knowing they would both be lying in their beds fantasizing about the other. “I’ve been thinking,” Waverly said, unclipping her seatbelt, opening the car door. “What if I deferred my studies for a year?”

Nicole unclipped her belt, pushing her door open, heading to the back seat. They both got in at the same time. “No, it’s too risky. This business with the band might go nowhere. Then you’ll be behind a year and miss out on making it as a lawyer.”

Waverly threw her jacket on the front seat, helping Nicole extract her arms from hers, pulling at her own tee shirt. “I know the risks. Before all this happened, Penn was the only thing I had to get me out of Harmony. My escape plan. That doesn’t have to be my only way out.”

Nicole helped Waverly pull her tee shirt over her head, struggling to unfasten her black bra, finally releasing it, taking a moment to gaze at Waverly’s naked top half. “I don’t want you to ruin your life for me. We’ve got plenty of time and this way you get to have two great things in your life. Penn and the band.”

“What about you? What if you’re off with the band? I won’t get to see you. And, if that Mercedes thinks she can get you.”

“I don’t want Mercedes. I’ve only just met her. No, that didn’t come out right. I never want Mercedes. Look, I don’t want to be apart from you. Not now, now that we have this. But, I’ll wait if you’ll wait for me. I mean, what about all those new students you’ll be mixing with.”

Waverly yanked Nicole’s tee shirt off, pushing her down on the seat, her lips edging nearer, whispering in Nicole’s ear. “Only if it would make you jealous. I need your passion. Actually, right now I need you to get on with it. I’m so turned on.”

Nicole giggled. “Waverly Earp, you’re always turned on. And, so am I. We’re not going to last college.”

Waverly let herself into the house, her father snoring in his favourite chair. She switched the TV off, heading to her bedroom, still pondering what to do about Penn. Had the band not become as popular she would not have entertained the idea of giving up her studies, content to see Nicole as often as she could, getting her degree, figuring out the rest of her life afterwards. She was a little annoyed with herself for not thinking through all the consequences of her actions, pushing the band to make those videos. She didn’t regret it, she simply hadn’t planned for their success. And, that annoyed her. 

Still, it was a good problem, she concluded. And, Mercedes was a bad problem. She would check with the university on her options, see what they recommended. All she needed to do was have a plan and be positive. She checked the time in Europe, wondering if Wynonna would be up. Too early she thought, she would ring her later, get her advice, see what she thought would be the best path to take.

Nicole lay in bed, the smell of Waverly still on her, not wanting to remove it, wanting to drown in her perfume and coconut hair conditioner forever. _I don’t want you to go,_ she thought, as she pulled up a photo of Waverly on her phone. _I can’t do this without you, but I will if it gives you what you want at Penn. What if you meet someone else? No, I’ve got to trust you._

She called her mother early next morning. “Hi, honey. Everything alright?”

“Kind of. The band’s doing great. We won a competition. Ten thousand dollars.”

“Wow. Congratulations. I’m guessing Shae’s thrilled.”

“Shae’s no longer in the band. Waverly’s taken her place.”

“The girl who lives near Nancy.”

“Yep. Wynonna’s younger sister. Except she’s off to Penn.”

“Clever girl. I always said you should have gone on, you’re clever too. Mending boats for the rest of your life isn’t much of a career.”

“I guess. Never really thought about it.”

Nicole’s mother paused, knowing they were repeating a conversation they had had so many times. “Honey, you let what happened in the woods that day hold you back. Those kids were mean, humiliating you like that. You were such a happy kid before. I’m sorry, I know it upsets you when I bring it up, but I sometimes think you’re still trapped.”

“I know. Perhaps. That’s why I don’t want to ruin Waverly’s chances of getting out. I owe her family that.”

“Oh honey, she’ll do her own thing. You focus on the band, enjoy that while it lasts. Tell Nancy I’ll pop over during the week, have lunch if she’s free.”

Nicole pulled on her work tee shirt, extracting a new pair of shorts, her uniform for the day, heading to the boathouse to start work. The air was unusually hot, Nicole already feeling sweat forming on her brow. She could tell a storm was brewing, hopefully bringing with it cooler temperatures. She began her chores for the day, checking the engine on the first boat which had developed a fault. A wrench in her hand, she was caught by surprise as Waverly wolf-whistled to announce her presence.

“I’ve spoken with Wyn,” Waverly said, her eyes on Nicole’s toned back. “She agrees with me about Penn.”

Nicole continued to work, her eyes remaining on the engine. “That you should go. See, I told you. It’s the best option.”

“That I should go with the band. Obviously, she doesn’t know about us. But, she thinks it’s worth a shot.”

Nicole put down the wrench, clambering out of the boat, pulling Waverly towards her. “I’m putting my foot down on this. You’re going to Penn. No argument.”

Waverly’s eyes flashed, glancing towards the open door. “What time does Jake arrive?”

Nicole followed her gaze. “No you don’t. You’re not getting round me like that Waverly Earp. I will not be seduced into changing my mind. No, Waverly stop. Don’t you dare take off…okay, but don’t remove your…Oh, God.”

“See, I win. I’m coming with you. And, so are these…”

Waverly took Nicole’s hands, bringing them to her now exposed chest, watching as Nicole’s eyes darkened, her lips parting, the erotic dance of skin on skin, both desperate for more. “We so have to get our own place,” she said, between kissing Nicole and trying to undo her shorts. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s driving me crazy. You’re driving me crazy. How could I let you go? It would drive me insane knowing you’re somewhere else not with me.”

Nicole felt the same, not wanting to admit it for fear of sealing Waverly’s fate. “I love being with you,” she replied, between kisses. “I love every time I see you my heart races. I love your body and the way it responds to me. And, that’s why you can’t come with me.”

Waverly removed Nicole’s hands from her body, placing them by her side, stepping back. “Then it’s off the menu until you say yes. You’ll get nothing more. Not even a peek.”

“You can’t do that. You can’t withhold that just to get me to change my mind. That’s blackmail. Or, something. Plus, I’d like to see how long you’ll last.”

“Oh, I’ll last,” Waverly teased. “I can play by myself, while you come to your senses.”

She placed a hand inside her shorts, closing her eyes, letting her lips part slightly, letting out a soft moan. Nicole watched, desperate to join in, knowing she would have to take a cold shower very soon if Waverly didn’t stop. She knew she was being tormented, knew Waverly was using her hold on her to get what she wanted. As Waverly threw her head back, letting out a long deep moan Nicole had changed her mind. “Okay, okay, you win. But, only if the band’s successful. If not, I’m driving you to college myself and locking you in your room. You hear.”

Waverly grinned, collecting her clothes from the floor. “See you later. Ward’s out tonight. I’ll swing by after work.”

She kissed Nicole on the cheek, Nicole watching her disappear through the entrance, forgetting what she was doing before Waverly arrived. Jake appeared, carrying coffees, handing her one. “Waverly looked pleased with herself. Does she know she has her tee shirt inside out?”

“Really,” Nicole replied. “Didn’t notice. Must have got dressed in a hurry. So, our band is famous thanks to your sister.”

“Yep. It’s gone to her head, thinks she’s the best. Thanks for giving her that money, it meant a lot.”

“I guessed. She offered to do it all for free. Couldn’t let her not share in our winnings.”

“So, what’s next? You planning on taking this further.”

Nicole nodded. “Got a manager. Hoping it will make a difference. Troy’s keen to push this. And, Waverly wants in. She’s quite demanding when she wants something.”

“I’ve heard. Knows her own mind and goes after it. Took Champ ages to get her to say yes. Think she only accepted because he has that fancy car and money to burn. He was cut up when she dumped him. Spent all that money on her, gets nothing in return.”

Nicole bit her lip, wanting to put Jake straight, knowing she didn’t want to out Waverly. “She’s too good for someone like Champ.”

“She never even gave him a reason. One minute he’s choosing a ring for her, next minute, bam. History.”

That Champ was thinking of proposing was news to Nicole. Waverly gave the impression their relationship was casual, without any prospect of a future, sensing Waverly told her what she wanted to hear. She told herself she wasn’t jealous of Champ, although if she sat by the lake and took a long hard look at herself she would spot a green-eyed monster staring back from the water. She wondered whether she should mention it to Waverly, that Champ’s possible proposal grated on her, deciding if the moment arose she might, otherwise she would let green-eyed monsters sleep.

Mercedes had already set to work promoting Wayhaught to her network, a radio show keen to interview them by phone, a TV network also interested, saying it would get back to her once they’d checked out their music. Mercedes phoned Nicole. “Hi sweetie, listen there’s quite a lot of interest in you. I’m wondering if everyone’s able to come to New York for a few days, sell the band. It would help your profile.”

“I need to check with the others. See if they can get time off work. How long are we talking?”

“Three days,” Mercedes replied. “A week tops. And, we’ll need to find someone to replace Waverly once she goes to Penn.”

Nicole knew she hadn’t told Mercedes, wondering where she had got the information. “She wants to come with us.”

“I’d be happier if she continued with Penn. There are no guarantees in this business. Hot one minute, cold the next. She’s a fool to bet on the band.”

“I said that. She won’t listen. Plus, she’s betting on the band, as we all are.”

“Nicole, you are the band. Everyone else supports you. You need to start thinking like that, or this won’t work. People will pay to see you. You’re young, extremely attractive, can sing unlike a lot of the stars out there today, and you’re amazing on the guitar. You are the deal. Not Waverly, not Alex, not Dylan and not Troy.”

“But, it’s our band. It’s what we’ve worked on for years. I’m a part of it.”

“Nicole, Nicole, Nicole,” Mercedes replied, letting out a heavy sigh. “You’ve lived in the shadows for too long. You need to step out into the light. Be who you are meant to be. A star.”


	24. the Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whose eyes are the greenest...
> 
> Music mood: [Car Seat Headrest: Hollywood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ka9l8X8W03Y)

Penn University was not happy with Waverly’s request to defer her course. She made the excuse she needed to take a year off to help at home, knowing if she told them the real reason, that she wanted to pursue a music career, her chances of ever getting into Penn would evaporate. She knew she was giving up something important, she also knew lying to the university would probably come back to bite her eventually. Again, all done without clear planning for foresight. 

What she did know was she would be with Nicole and the band, hopefully making a go of their music careers, praying that it would work out. Mercedes scheduled back-to-back appearances in New York, the boys having cleared space to go, excited to be finally living the dream, albeit in a cheap hotel some distance from where Mercedes had her swanky apartment. It wasn’t her apartment as such, her family buying it, allowing Mercedes to live in it, she not complaining. Her family’s wealth had allowed her to pursue her career in music, knowing early on she would never make it, switching sides to manage those who did have a chance. Those like Nicole. Those who oozed talent.

She paid for the band to fly, the first time any of them had, Nicole nervous before take-off, Waverly holding her hand comforting her. That she dreamt of being afraid of flying probably played into her more than real fear as the plane left the ground, Nicole clinging to Waverly as it banked on its way to their new life. Troy ran his own webpage design company, Dylan worked at his father’s café and Alex did a lot of different jobs, never quite settling into any of them. To say any of them had made a success of their lives so far would be stretching the truth. 

New York was buzzing as they took a taxi to their hotel, Mercedes having booked five rooms, even though Nicole requested a double room for her and Waverly. A quick word with the hotel manager he offered them a large double, Waverly beside herself, hoping they had enough time to try out the room before their first meeting. They both stared at the huge bed as the entered the room, Waverly the first to jump on it, patting the other side, inviting Nicole to join her. Nicole checked her phone. Two hours before they were needed across town for their first interview. Troy knocked on their door, asking if they wanted to go grab a bite to eat, Nicole peering round the door saying they were good, they’d eat later. By the time she closed the door Waverly was fully undressed lying on the bed waiting for Nicole.

“You don’t do foreplay do you?” Nicole remarked, removing her clothes, crawling up the bed.

“We never have much time. You know what I dream most about?”

“I’m hoping you’ll say me.”

“Oh, it’s you. No, I dream about us in bed, all day, you teasing me over and over till I explode, again, and again, and again. Do you think there’s something wrong with me? I just have to look at you and I’m horny. It’s like all my pent up feelings are suddenly being released.”

Nicole hovered over Waverly’s body, kissing her neck, eliciting a shudder. “Were you like this with…”

“Champ,” Waverly said, shaking her head. “It all seemed dull. I could never get that excited. What about you? You must have had others desperate to rip your clothes off.”

“Not really. Shae was passionate, but nothing compared to you. I think she only went with me because I was there. Available.”

Waverly pushed Nicole off, sitting up. “You were with Shae,” her face falling, a look of confusion in her eyes. “I didn’t know. How long?”

“A few months. It fizzled before it ever got started. We were both drunk the first time. Things went from bad to worse. Only consolation was we stayed friends afterwards. Could have been worse.”

“Was she…was she any good…you know. Here.”

“New York. Never been.”

“No, silly. In bed. Was she. Am I as good as her?”

Nicole studied Waverly’s face, worried eyes, a slight lift to the corner of her mouth. “She was fantastic. The best I’ve ever had. No one could ever top her. I mean, what she could do.”

“Oh, right. It’s only because this is all new to me. Tell me what you want, how you want it, I’ll do anything. I just need guidance.”

“Oh, God. Waverly, I’m teasing you. She was selfish. Utterly selfish, as you’d expect. You are amazing. Beyond amazing. Seriously, I’m not just saying that. You really are the most tactile, the most sensuous, the most horny cute person I’ve ever met.”

“So, you like me?” Waverly asked, fishing for reassurance. “You know I like you. Don’t you.”

Nicole pulled Waverly towards her. “I like you a lot. Too much, which will be my downfall. And, yes, I do know you like me. Now, we haven’t got long. Do you want me to show you how much I like you?”

Waverly nodded, lying back, letting Nicole explore her in New York. 

Mercedes was waiting at the radio studio, talking with the host, spying the band as they entered, waving to get their attention. “There you are. This is Josh, he’ll interview you, hoping he’ll play one of your songs. Bit fussy about you not having a label. Still, worth a shot. Do your best.”

The interview went well, Josh impressed by their ability, especially for a band he’d not heard of before. He prided himself on knowing the next new artist, or band to emerge, glad Mercedes had brought Wayhaught to his attention, changing his mind and agreeing to play all three songs suggesting they make more videos and get a bigger social media presence. He could see, as Mercedes could see, Wayhaught had a chance. They were edgy, their songs were raw, their sound was current, what music lovers wanted. 

Next was a meet and greet of bloggers and music journalists to put real faces and personalities to the band. Nicole had never talked so much, or been photographed so much, Waverly keeping an eye on her, spotting one female blogger getting a little too tactile, going over to where they were seated, taking Nicole’s hand. The blogger looked a little shocked, finally realising Waverly was telling her non-verbally to back off, that Nicole was taken. The session went on for a few hours, all the band members exhausted by the time the last journalist left. “This is hard work,” Troy said, opening a beer. “My tongue’s dead.”

“We still have another interview to do," Mercedes advised. "Plus, a club I want to show you. You're playing there tomorrow night. You’ll have to use their equipment this time.”

“I just hope I can keep going,” Nicole said. “I thought it would be all playing. This…all this never entered my mind.”

“Sweetie,” Mercedes replied, brushing Nicole’s hair off her face. “This is just the beginning. We get you noticed, get the big boys interested, then we pounce. Get you the best deal we can.”

“Us,” Nicole corrected. “We get us the best deal. How long?”

“A few months. You may have to put your other lives on hold to make this work. But, I promise you, with the reception we’re getting so far I can feel we have a real chance. Normally takes months and months of knocking on doors to get this far. They like you. They know you’re good. And, everyone wants to be the first to claim you. That’s how this business works. Nothing, then everyone will want to know you.”

They returned to their hotel, Waverly crashing on the bed, no longer interested in ripping Nicole’s clothes off. “I’m so tired. Wish we didn’t have to go to that stupid club. Why were you all over that blogger?”

“I wasn’t. She was all over me. If you hadn’t come over and rescued me I swear she would have had her tongue down my throat.”

“Precisely,” Waverly said, suddenly feeling very emotional. “If I hadn’t have been here. And, you didn’t want me to come. What would have happened then?”

“I would probably have been playing tonsil tennis.”

Waverly got up, heading to the bathroom, slamming the door, locking it. Nicole stood looking at the locked door, panicking they were about to have their first row, or maybe had had their first row, frantic to reassure Waverly she would never play tonsil tennis with anyone else. _You are so fucking stupid sometimes,_ she thought, as she tapped on the bathroom door. _Why do you even open your mouth? And, why say that to her when she’s feeling fragile. So fucking stupid._ “Waverly, I’m sorry. I would never. You know that. Please, open the door, it was cruel of me to say that. Hey, you can see the Empire State building from the window.”

“You can’t. I checked. I’m not coming out.”

“Can I come in? I promise never to make you jealous ever again.”

“I’m not jealous,” Waverly yelled. “I’m upset. I’m upset everyone wants you. Mercedes. Shae. That blogger bitch. Who’s next?”

“Waverly, I’m yours. And, I’m hoping you’re mine. I’ll let you into a little secret. I’m jealous of Champ. I hate you were with him. I hate you were nearly engaged to him. It kills me to think I didn’t act sooner. I nearly lost you, because I didn’t have the guts to try.”

The bathroom door opened. “I didn’t say yes. I promise I didn’t say yes. He asked me what type of ring I’d like. He didn’t even really ask me. He thought if he put a ring on me he could keep me in Harmony. Stop me going to Penn.”

Nicole opened her arms. “Baby, we have each other now. And, the band. We make it work.”

“I’m too emotional right now. Can we just lie on the bed and cuddle.”

“Always. Being with you here, now, in New York in our own room, that’s fame. It’ll never get any better than this.”

Nicole felt Waverly’s arms tighten round her, Waverly’s head resting on her chest, the moment perfect. They had each other, and that was enough. More than all the record deals in the world, more than any adoring fans, or concerts, or merchandise. More than any money that would come their way, they had this together, a journey to something new. All they had to do was stay strong, stay focused on what mattered the most. Forget all the crazy business surrounding them.

As they lay on the bed, Nicole told Waverly about a dream she had once, a crazy dream she was already famous. How they’d met, how she’d given Waverly guitar lessons, how Waverly had helped her get back on her feet. “It’s crazy right,” Nicole said. “It’s as if I kind of knew you would be a part of my life. At least, I hoped you’d be a part of my life. I even dreamt about you bringing over apple pie.”

Waverly was half-asleep. “You do like apple pie,” she replied dreamily. “I love you.”

“Waves,” Nicole said, shaking her awake. “What did you just say?”

Waverly roused, turning over, her eyes still closed. “You like apple pie.”

“Yes, I heard that. The other thing you slipped in. Say it again.”

“Why?”

“I want to hear it.”

“Not until you say it first.”

“Waverly Earp, I love you. I love you. Now you.”

Waverly opened one eye. “I love you. Now can we please sleep, I’m exhausted.”

The club was heaving by the time they arrived. Showered, new clothes, a meal at a relaxed restaurant near the venue, the band was ready to see what the night had in store. Mercedes was in fine form, ordering champagne, having it brought to their private booth. “This is where some of the great artists have played,” she said, filling glasses, handing them out. “There’s a big crowd coming tomorrow to see you perform. I wanted you to get a feel for the place, check out the stage. I think this is where the magic begins.”

Troy looked around. “So, who’s coming? Anyone we should know about.”

Mercedes grinned. “Oh, just a few promoters, some people who are even more connected than me in the industry. And, a certain celebrity who owes me a favour.”

They drank, danced, Nicole finally getting to see Waverly’s dance moves, careful not to draw too much attention to themselves, not sure how their relationship would be received. Troy was talking with Mercedes, her eyes glancing over at Nicole whenever the opportunity presented itself, Nicole careful not to be seen returning her gaze. It unnerved her, the way Mercedes singled her out, treated her as the only member of the band worthy of her time and efforts. She didn’t need that, content she had the others to support her, knowing the long, hard road they had trudged, in dingy clubs, and school halls and anywhere so long as people listened to them performing. 

If Wayhaught was an overnight success, it came on the back of everything The Butterflies had done. All the shitty reviews, all the nights driving back from venues, too tired to see the road, knowing they had only earned a small sum. It wasn’t that they had no ambition. They would never have been able to keep going if they didn’t believe their music made a difference. Except, it didn’t. Not really. Not in the greater scheme of things. Not in the greater music industry. They were nobody, a nothing band, hindered by Shae’s determination to take them in a certain direction, little knowing if they only shook things up a little they would be on the cusp of greatness.

Waverly was fast asleep within a few minutes of hitting the bed, snoring lightly, Nicole adoring everything about her. She stroked her hair, running a finger down her back, across her thigh, snuggling in behind her, leaving stardom and fame for another day. “I love you, Waverly Earp.”

They ordered breakfast in bed, enjoying what they were too tired to enjoy the night before. Waverly was refreshed, craving time alone with Nicole, pinning her to the bed, threatening to keep her there for the whole day. Nicole would have gladly stayed, had it not been for the repeated banging on their door. Mercedes voice could be heard outside. “Sweeties, I know you’re enjoying the room, but we really need to get going. I have someone Nicole needs to meet. A record label. I have a car waiting.”

“I’m coming,” Nicole replied, earning a giggle from Waverly. “Give me a moment.”

She grabbed her sweater from the chair, opening the door, Mercedes waltzing in, checking out Waverly in the bed. Her eyes turned to Nicole. “I see you’re making the most of New York.”


	25. the Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole is worried about Waverly...
> 
> Music mood: [Lana Del Rey: Young and Beautiful](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_1aF54DO60)

Waverly glared at Mercedes. “Do we have a problem?”

Mercedes smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed, forcing Waverly to move her legs. “Sweetie, we don’t. But, I want to make this very clear, this is not a vacation, there’s work to do and everyone has to be ready to step up.”

“Are you accusing me of slacking?”

Mercedes stared into Waverly’s eyes. “You are the youngest, you’re also sleeping with the most important asset this band has, both of those carry a risk for me. I need harmony. I don’t need theatrics, or emotional outbursts.”

“Nicole, are you just going to stand there and let her say all this?”

The colour drained from Nicole’s face, caught in the middle of something not her doing. She hated fights, hated taking sides, but if she didn’t, she knew she would forever be answering to this manager, this person who supposedly had their best interests in mind.

She sat the other side of Waverly, taking her hand. “Mercedes, Waverly is part of this band. She’s my girlfriend and she’s not emotional, or prone to theatrics, or whatever you think she is. She’s level-headed and happens to be a damn good guitar player. The guys love her. I love her and if that’s a problem then we end all this now.”

Mercedes smiled at Nicole. “Good, I needed to hear that. This business is cruel, very cruel, it will tear you up and spit you out if you show any weakness. There will be pressure, oh boy will there be pressure. I just needed you to be aware what you’re taking on. I can be direct, say it like I see it, but it’s for your own good. Now we really do need to get going.”

“I’m not going anywhere without Waverly,” Nicole instructed. “Or the guys. We go together.”

“That’s what I also wanted to hear. I’ll wait for you in the lobby. Five minutes.”

Nicole waited for the door to close. “What the fuck? Are you okay?”

Waverly was shaking. “I seriously want to kill her. She’s toxic. Or, nuts. Can’t decide which. And, thank you for stepping in. At least we showed her we can’t be split.”

“We won’t. Felt good standing up to her. Guess being with you is paying off.”

“I think laid back Nicole might have to take a back seat for a while, especially around Mercedes. God, for a moment I thought she’d send me packing back to Harmony.”

The car took them to a building on Park Avenue, a doorman welcoming them, Mercedes leading the way towards the elevator. A man’s voice answered the intercom, Mercedes ushering everyone into the elevator, pressing the button for the penthouse. “Xavier runs Matador Records. He wants to vet you before he commits any money to the band. Let me handle the negotiations, just show him you’re serious about your music.”

“Man, this place reeks of money,” Troy said. “This is where I want to live someday.”

“You can,” Mercedes replied. “All of you can, if you play the game right. Dolls has worked hard for this level of success. He’s good, that’s why I want you to meet him. I wouldn’t put you in front of someone like him unless I knew he’d be interested.”

The lift opened onto a large lobby, a door at the end, Mercedes marching the band towards their destiny. Dolls greeted them, eyeing his potential new recruits, kissing Mercedes on both cheeks. “I’d normally meet you at the office, but I’m flying out in a few hours, so you’ll have to make do with this place.”

Dolls led them through the ultra-modern apartment to a winding staircase leading to the outside terrace. Every member of the band was speechless as they stepped out, taking in the view of New York on a bright August morning, the distant sound of cars below, a world away from the tranquillity of the space in which they were now standing. Nicole took Waverly’s hand, as much for her own reassurance as Waverly’s. She spotted the Empire State Building, squeezing Waverly’s hand, pointing, Waverly nodding.

Dolls invited them to sit, while he went to make coffee, Mercedes following him into the kitchen area leaving the band to get used to the life of the rich and famous. Alex was the first to say something. “It’s got a fucking pool. Guys, it has a pool, in the roof.”

“How much do you think a place like this costs?” Waverly asked. “It must be in the millions.”

“Ten of millions,” Troy replied. “This is it guys. We’ve made it.”

“We need to see what’s being offered, before we rush into anything,” Dylan cautioned. “I don’t want to rain on anyone’s parade, but this is only our first talk with a big guy. There might be other offers out there.”

“True,” Nicole said. “We don’t take anything unless we’re all happy with the deal and it’s the right deal. Agreed.”

“Agreed,” everyone said in unison.

Mercedes appeared with a tray. “Looks like I’m waiting on all of you. Grab a coffee and we’ll begin.”

Dolls explained the philosophy behind Matador, how he started it by himself in a studio apartment, his friend joining him from another record label a year later, struggling to make a niche market for artists who had talent but weren’t being picked up by bigger labels. “I’ve seen both sides of the coin,” he said, placing his cup on the table. “I know what it’s like to be dirt poor and I know what it’s like to be rich. Rich is better, but it has its costs." 

“I’ll take rich any day,” Troy uttered, everyone staring at him. “Well, I would.”

“You’ll have a lot of people want to know you once you’re famous,” Dolls continued. “Those who want to ride your wave. You’re lucky having each other. Solo artists have to do this without support. I’m not going to sugar coat this, Mercedes has probably warned you already this business takes no prisoners. It’s tough, it’s crazy, but if you survive you may end up in a place like this.”

“What’s the deal?” Alex asked, growing bored of the pep talk.

“The deal is if we decide to take you on, we’ll guide your growth, get your music recorded and marketed, manage all your video production, support your tours and build your brand. You have the looks, you definitely have the sound, you just need a bit of magic dust over everything to get your name trending. We also will give you an advance to tide each of you over while you adjust to this industry.”

“Like how much are we talking here?” Troy asked, wanting to know what they were worth.

Dolls looked over at Mercedes. “As a ballpark figure, we’re looking half a million to get you started. I’ll need to discuss the figures with your manager, make sure we’re on the same page. It’s all a question of how quickly we can grow you, get you seen. If my instincts are right, I’m guessing six months and you’ll be big. Very big. Are you ready for the ride of your life?”

The band members looked at each other. Half a million dollars was a huge sum of money, that alone swaying most of them to accept the deal on the table. It took Dylan to bring them back down to earth. “It sounds very generous. I’m guessing we’ll need to discuss this between ourselves and let you know what we decide to do.”

Dolls smiled. “Sure. But, an offer like this doesn’t come along too often. My business partner will be at the venue tonight to hear you play. We’re behind you, if you want us. I need to make a few calls. I’ll let you discuss this with your manager.”

Dolls disappeared, Mercedes taking the floor. “Do not let the figures being mentioned sway you. There’s plenty of room for negotiation and remember, I take a cut of whatever you get, so bear that in mind.”

“How much do we each get?” Troy asked.

“Your advance will be around twenty thousand dollars each. I know, it isn’t much, but you’re just starting out. And, it’s a loan, not a handout. You’ll have to work hard to pay it back through all the band revenues. But, let me tell you this, rarely have I sat with a record label and had this much offered this early. Dolls wants you, I can tell, so don’t screw this up.”

“Where will we be based?” Waverly asked, realising they probably wouldn’t be seeing their homes for a while.

“Here, to start with. Maybe Los Angeles. Dolls might want you to tour Europe, so London may factor in somewhere. Essentially, wherever you’re needed. Get used to living out of a suitcase for a while.”

More interviews were lined up for later that morning, a lunch with one of Mercedes’ friends in the business, another meet and greet in a fancy hotel, finally back to their less fancy hotel to prepare for the evening. Waverly flopped on the bed, already exhausted, Nicole noticing she hadn’t eaten much during the day. “You need to keep your strength up. Do you want me to order room service?”

“It’s fine. I’m too tired to eat. And, too nervous. It’s all happening so fast. I’m having difficulty processing it.”

Nicole sat beside her, rubbing her leg. “Waves, you need something inside you. We’ve got a long night. I’m worried about you.”

“I know what I need inside me right now,” Waverly replied, unbuttoning her jeans, releasing the zipper. “That’ll help me relax.”

“Waves, we need to rest. You need to eat. I need to shower. We’ve got to pace ourselves.”

Waverly stuck out her lower lip. “Don’t you like me anymore?”

“No. Don’t pull that on me…again. You know I can’t resist.”

Waverly began unbuttoning her shirt, pulling it out of her jeans, letting it fall loose. “Just a quickie, then I’ll eat. I promise.”

“Waves, no. You’ll kill us both at this rate.”

Waverly sat up, removing her shirt, her bra, bringing Nicole’s hand to caress her skin. “It’ll help you too. Can’t you feel how turned on I am.”

“Oh God, Waves. Okay, just a quickie, then you eat. You promise me, you’ll eat.”

“Oh, I will,” Waverly replied, winking. “I definitely will.”

They were still asleep when Troy knocked loudly on their door. “Guys, we’re leaving in half an hour. See you in the lobby.”

“Shit,” Nicole said, checking the time on her phone. “Fuck, Waves, we’ve overslept. And, you haven’t eaten. Fuck, we need to get ready. Fuck, fuck.”

“I have eaten,” Waverly teased, turning over, hoping to catch five more minutes before having to get up.

“Waves, we need to get ready. We can’t be late. I’ll order something to take in the car. Fuck.”

“It’s fine. I’ll get something at the venue. Don’t panic. Go use the shower first. I’ll join you.”

Nicole was panicking. _Why didn’t I set my alarm,_ she thought as she rushed to shower, getting soap in her eye. _Fuck, that hurts. We’ve got to sort this out. We can’t operate like this. Man, that stings._

Washing the soap out, she returned to the bedroom, Waverly dozing. “Waves, up now, please. We have less than twenty minutes.”

“Shit. Sorry, must have drifted off.”

Waverly hopped out of bed, Nicole donning her stage gear, drying her hair as best she could, applying a layer of war paint. Waverly grabbed her clothes from her bag, dressing while Nicole watched from the bed, her hair still damp as they entered the car with minutes to spare. The venue was beginning to fill up, regulars along with a long guest list Mercedes had supplied to the doormen, greeting her contacts as they arrived. 

The band was escorted to the stage, shown the instruments they would be using for the gig, given time for a sound check and a practise. Nicole wasn’t happy with the guitar she’d been offered, selecting another which felt similar to her Ibanez back home. She checked Waverly was okay with her guitar, the guys all seemed happy with their instruments, heading to the swankiest dressing room in their entire career. Troy grabbed a handful of candy from a large bowl on the table, pocketing another handful, grinning at the others.

Dylan had his drumsticks with him, tapping out a beat, Alex was on his phone to his brother, sending him photos of their room. Waverly sipped from a bottle of water Nicole handed to her. “Waves, let me get you something to eat. You look really pale.”

“Just nerves. I can’t eat when I’m nervous. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’m a big girl.”

“I know, but you haven’t eaten all day. And, it’ll be hot on stage.”

“We’ll get something to eat after the band plays. Fries, I fancy fries.”

“I can order them now. We have time. Or, a sandwich.”

“Stop fussing,” Waverly snapped. “I’m not a child, Nicole.”

“I know,” Nicole replied, feeling the sting in the words. “It’s only…”

“What? I’m too young, too inexperienced. What?”

“It’s only…Fine. If you need anything let me know.”

“Nicole, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you’re looking out for me.”

The venue was packed as they made their way to the stage, a low rumble of talking, not the usual cheers and whistles they were used to getting. Nicole introduced the band, checking everyone was ready, starting with Dark Side. As they finished playing a cheer went up, the energy lifting, carrying the band through the rest of their performance. Their last song was Of All the Girls, Nicole taking a moment, wiping the sweat from her brow, glancing over at Waverly. She could see she wasn’t well, the colour gone from her face, her head lowered. Under any other circumstances, she would have stopped, gone over, checked on Waverly. She couldn’t. She had to perform.

Turning back to the crowd she began playing, the crowd erupted, the best reception the band had ever had to this song, carrying them all over the finish line. Mercedes was near the front, someone standing next to her surrounded by a small group, Nicole vaguely recognising the person. As she came off stage, Mercedes moved towards them, clapping. “Bravo, bravo. Excellent. Nicole I’d like to introduce you to Lana, a dear friend who promised to make an appearance.”

Nicole recognised who she was. “Oh fuck. You’re…”

“I am. You’re way better looking in person. Mercedes told me about her new find. Had to come check you out for myself. Love your sound.”

“Thank you. I love all your work,” Nicole replied, desperately trying to think of one of her songs. “Summertime sadness,” she blurted, as the title came to her. 

Waverly came up behind Nicole, placing a hand on her back. “I’m not feeling too good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sometimes think I write stories just to be nosy about where people live. This is the place Dolls lives in. And, yes, I agree with Troy. I wanna live there...[240 Park Avenue South, NYC - Penthouse](https://www.sothebysrealty.com/eng/sales/detail/180-l-1182-5kytdj/240-park-avenue-south-penthouse-new-york-ny-10003)
> 
> Play the video...it's worth it...!


	26. the Haggle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waverly finally listens to Nicole...
> 
> Music mood: [Paul van Dyk: For An Angel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sRvEwXDxz_I)

Nicole managed to turn in time, grabbing Waverly as she went down, Lana helping her. Nicole swept Waverly up in her arms, carrying her to the dressing room, getting ice from the bucket, wrapping it in a cloth, placing it on Waverly’s forehead. Waverly stirred, opening her eyes, staring up at Lana, not quite believing who she was seeing. “Are you?”

“I am. Are you okay? It’s really hot out there. “Not surprised you fainted.”

Mercedes was peering over Lana’s shoulder. “Did you eat?”

Waverly moved her gaze from Lana to Mercedes. “I…I was going to.”

“Nicole, you let her go out on stage like that. This won’t work. You know it won’t work if she’s starving herself.”

“I…I tried,” Nicole offered. “It’s nerves. I was like that once. I’ve learnt to eat through it.”

“Damn it. I hope no one saw,” Mercedes continued. “This could cost you the deal. Fucking great.”

“Hey,” Lana interrupted. “Give the kid a break. It’s tough being up there, on stage, everyone staring, expecting the world and then some. She's doing great.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Mercedes said. “You’re right. Waverly, I’m sorry. How are you, sweetie?”

“I’m a little lightheaded that’s all. I should really eat something.”

“I’ll order you something. Nicole you really need to go back out there and mix with my guests. They need to meet you.”

“I’ll stay with Waverly,” Lana offered. “Waverly, such a lovely name. Might put that in one of my songs.”

“Are you sure you’ll be okay,” Nicole asked. “I won’t be long.”

“Go. I’ll be fine,” Waverly replied, turning to Lana. “I love all your songs.”

Nicole made her way back out, Mercedes cornering her in the corridor. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at Waverly, but that was fucking irresponsible. Both of you. You need…this isn’t a game. If she’s not eating, we need to address this now. You know how hard performing is on the body. And, she’s only eighteen.”

“I understand,” Nicole replied, her shoulders slumping, her heart sinking towards her stomach. “I understand. I let her down. I let everything slide. It won’t happen again.”

Mercedes brushed Nicole’s arm. “Sweetie, it’s not your responsibility. You’re not a childminder. You have a difficult enough job leading this band. Everyone needs to step up. Everyone. I know you don’t like hearing this, but you are going to be under a lot of pressure as we move forward. You can’t carry Waverly.”

Nicole knew what Mercedes was saying was true. She knew if they were to stand any chance of succeeding they all had to step up, man up, do the right thing. Eating was part of that equation. She wasn’t mad at Waverly, knowing how pressure affects everyone differently. She was mad at herself, for having been swayed into having sex in the afternoon when they should have been resting, when Waverly should have been eating, at the very least conserving her energy. It would be the last time that happened she vowed as they entered the main area.

There were lots of people to meet, lots of handshaking, lots of photographs, the guys in their element. Troy was posing with a particularly attractive woman, Nicole spotting him exchanging numbers. Dylan was doing his best to interact, not the most sociable, he smiled when asked, nodded his head, answered a few questions. Alex approached. “Where’s Waverly?”

“She’s with Lana. Heat exhaustion.”

“She didn’t look well on stage. I kept looking over. Did well to make it to the end.”

“She hasn’t eaten all day. I should have forced her to have something.”

“That’s not you though, is it? You may need to get tough on her. Or, I can big brother her into eating, like I used to do with my little sisters. Tell her she can’t play till she finishes all her plate.”

Nicole reached out to hug him, the tears coming. “This is fucking tough, right. We’ve only just started and this happens.”

“Hey,” Alex replied, wrapping his arms tighter round Nicole. “We’ve got you. Don’t carry this on your own. Talk to us, we’re here for you. And, Waverly. She’s a great kid, just hasn’t done this as much as us.”

“Thank you. That means a lot. I think Mercedes is getting to me. She keeps setting me apart from you. It fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, we’ve noticed. She’s on the prowl. She’s fucking good, but man she one evil bitch.”

“I think she’s just been in the industry too long. I get the feeling it sucks the soul from you after a while.”

“Not me man,” Alex replied. “We do this for a few years, get filthy rich, fuck off, that’s the plan.”

Mercedes tapped Nicole on the shoulder. “Sweetie, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Alex released Nicole, watching as Mercedes dragged her away to meet yet another influential person. Two hours later they were still talking, the guy clearly impressed with Nicole, offering his house in Spain if she ever needed a place to crash. Nicole didn’t have the heart to tell him she was with Waverly, she didn’t have to, Waverly emerging with Lana arm in arm, searching the room for Nicole, making a beeline for her.

Kissing her on the lips, she sat on Nicole’s lap, clearly better for having spent time with Lana. “I’ve eaten. We had fries and ice cream. Isn’t this the best?”

“It is. How are you feeling?”

“Much, much better. Lana said we can visit her when we’re here, isn’t that right?”

“Sure. It was great meeting you. I’ve got to go. Waves, call me okay, let me know how things are going.”

Nicole waited for Lana to leave. “Waves. Lana del Rey is calling you Waves.”

Waverly planted another kiss on Nicole’s cheek. “We’re friends. She adores you. I told her we’ve only been together a short while.”

The guy sat opposite was beginning to fidget. “So, about what I said. Are you interested?”

“I’ve never DJ’d,” Nicole replied. “I could give it a go.”

“It’s easy. Line ‘em up, spin them, get the crowd going. If you’re here for a while perhaps we could take in a few clubs, get a feel for what works for you.”

“Thanks, I’d like that.”

“Who was that?” Waverly asked, as the guy left.

“Hex. Top DJ. Says it would be worth me learning how to spin records. Can you believe this?”

“I can. Can we go home? I’m beyond tired.”

“Sure. But, we need to have a chat.”

Waverly stuck out her lower lip. “Can it wait?”

Nicole gave her a look that said it couldn’t.

Back in the hotel, Waverly sat on the bed knowing what was coming. Nicole paced the room, gazing out the window, building up courage for what she was about to say. She approached, kneeling before Waverly, taking both her hands. “You scared the life out of me tonight,” she began. “I never want to go through that again.”

“I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. I just…I got caught up in everything. The bed, being with you, Dolls’ place. I’ll listen in future. Please don’t send me home.”

“Oh God, Waves, I’m not cross with you. I’m worried. This is a lot to take on. I’m not going to send you home, but I don’t want you to suffer. We need to be sensible.”

“I will. I promise. I fucked up. Lana said she fainted on stage one time, told me to make sure I eat regularly, drink plenty of water.”

“We’ve all been there,” Nicole added. “I remember one time I skipped a meal to get to a venue, had to come off halfway through and throw up.”

Waverly brushed Nicole’s hair off her face. “I’m glad I’m here with you, doing this. I won’t fuck up again, I promise.”

Nicole brushed a tear away. “I know. I’m glad too. There’s just a lot going on right now.”

“Oh Nicole, don’t cry. It’s okay, it’s really okay. We’ve got this. Come we’re both exhausted.”

Nicole raised herself, touching her lips against Waverly’s, finding home. They were both asleep within minutes, Nicole not bothering to remove her clothes, or make-up, waking the next morning to find Waverly had ordered room service. A full breakfast and two slices of apple pie. They joined the others for a stroll around the area, acting like tourists, buzzing about the night before, Alex eating the candy he’d stolen from the venue. 

Mercedes had another round of interviews planned for later that day, the band entering into a new stride, learning as they went how to answer questions, make their journey sound interesting, whet people’s appetite for what they had planned as a band. Waverly made sure she ate at regular intervals, Nicole discreetly checking, occasionally earning a glare from Waverly. 

Their short stay in the big Apple ended too quickly, wanting to stay, knowing they would be back at some stage. Dolls had been in contact with Mercedes to say his business partner was impressed with their talent, that the deal still stood if Wayhaught was willing to take it. Mercedes countered, saying they’d had another offer slightly higher that the band was seriously considering. Dolls upped his offer, suggesting a bigger advance for each of the band, hoping that would be sufficient. 

Mercedes countered again, suggesting double that amount. “You and I both know this band is going places. What if you lose out now, at the beginning, when they’re cheap? Show them you support their work, and them and you’ll have them eating out of your hands.”

“You drive a hard bargain. Yes, I agree, they have something, but they need to be nurtured. Throwing money at them this early might not be the most sensible option.”

“Perhaps. But, unless you demonstrate what’s in it for them, they might not rise to the challenge. Give them something they can’t say no to.”

“I’ll consider it. Let you know my decision shortly.”

Mercedes had played these games too many times before to know she had something good in her hands. Too many times she had come to the table with a weak hand, managing to secure a better deal for those she was representing. It was different with Wayhaught. They had something. Something unique. Something record labels like Matador were keen to get their hands on. Of course there were other labels she could have approached, deciding Wayhaught’s music would sit well in Matador’s portfolio of artists. 

Yes, she had lied there were other deals on the table. That didn’t matter. Everyone lied in this business, if it meant getting the best deal for themselves. And, she was the best liar in town, friends, enemies, were all the same if it meant she got everything. Dolls sent an email two hours later agreeing to her new terms, Mercedes informing the band they had a serious deal to consider.

Troy looked at the figures presented. “This is fucking nuts. We’re each getting fifty thousand dollars. Guys, we’ve got to take this.”

Dylan looked over the schedule. “It looks good. I could use fifty K that’s for sure. Is everyone in for this?”

Nicole looked at Waverly. “What do you think? Are you in?”

“So in. I’ll need to discuss this with pa and Wynonna, but I’m in guys.”

Nicole motioned for Waverly to join her outside the café. “Hey, listen. If you need time to talk with Ward and Wynonna.”

“Pa’s okay with it. He’s got his girlfriend. I’m just an extra mouth to feed. I would like to talk to Wyn before I sign anything.”

“Of course. We wait until everyone is ready. And, you’re sure you want to do this?”

“Sure. As sure as I’ll ever be. Look, about yesterday…”

“Waves, it’s okay. And hey, Lana del Rey bought you fries. That’s so surreal.”

“I know right. I felt so bad, not having any cash on me. She’s lovely.”

Nicole swept Waverly into her arms. “Not as lovely as me. She fancies me you know.”

Waverly giggled. “Actually, I think you’re right. She did keep asking me questions about you. Told her you repaired boats for a living. She thought I was teasing her.”

“I’m so happy right now. I loved working on the boats. But, being here with you, beats that.”

“Great. I’m better than a boat. Thanks,” Waverly teased.

“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant give me you in New York over fixing a boat every day.”

“Do you want to stop talking?”

“Yep. I think I should,” Nicole replied, joining their lips together in a union she hoped would last a long, long time.

Wynonna was overjoyed when she heard Waverly’s news, telling her to go sign that deal. She wished her baby sister all the best, asking to speak to Nicole. “So, you’ve made it pug face. I knew you would. How’s Waverly holding up?”

“She’s good,” Nicole replied, taking the phone outside. “She’s good. Listen, do you think this is too much for her?”

“She has you,” Wynonna replied. “I’m trusting you to look after my baby sister. And, the guys. She acts big, like she knows it all, like she’s Miss Positive, but deep down she’s just a scared kid. Just make sure she eats. She forgets sometimes.”

Nicole felt a lump in her throat. “I’ll look after her. I promise. How’s Spain?”

“Hot. Spanish. Hate my job, hate where I’m living. But, hey, I’m living the life. I’m really glad for you guys. You’ve worked hard for this. Can I speak to Waverly again?”

Nicole entered the café, handing the phone to Waverly, who was eyeing her suspiciously. She headed outside, returning a few minutes later crying, Nicole comforting her. Mercedes arrived half an hour later. “So guys, what’s it to be?”

“We’re in,” Troy announced. “We’ll sign with Matador.”

“Excellent. Now the hard work begins. I suggest you take a week to put things in order back home, then join me in New York to begin your new life. I’ll rent an apartment for you. It won’t have a rooftop pool, but it will be better than what you’ve been used to. I’ll have your equipment shipped here, unless you want to drive it yourselves.”

“I don’t mind driving,” Dylan offered. “Save on the cost of freighting it.”

Mercedes laughed. “Oh sweetie, you guys have so much to learn.”

Ward was out when they arrived home, heading to Waverly’s bedroom, jumping into bed, glad to be home. Nicole was more emotional than usual, the trip, the worry over Waverly bubbling over. She wasn’t one to cry too often, but it came, Waverly soothing Nicole, telling her she was there for her, that they would make it. “I love you so much, it hurts,” she said, wiping away a tear. “I won’t let you down.”

“Do you want all this?” Nicole asked. “There’s still time to say no.”

“I want this. And, you.”


	27. the How

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will the band cope with living and playing together twenty-four seven...
> 
> Music mood: [John Lennon: Mind Games](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bVYXWVs0Prc)

Ward listened in silence as Waverly told him about the band’s future, how they would live in New York, how she hoped this would be a journey worth taking. Nicole sat beside her, fingers linked as if in prayer, her head lowered, not wanting to give anything away as to their relationship. Waverly wanted it that way, fearing Ward would not approve of her being with Nicole, fearing he might forbid her to go with the band. Not that it mattered, except it did. She wanted his approval, as all children want the approval of their parents.

With her mother gone, with Willa gone, with Wynonna gone, each doing their own thing, she was left to build a relationship with her father. Not the easiest of men to live with, or love, they had found a way to co-exist in a house that held little joy, Ward too consumed with his own life to really find the time to nurture the relationships in his own home. He found companionship in the form of Terra’s manager, another divorcee, who let Waverly work there as a favour to Ward. Waverly didn’t mind, except she did. She would have loved for her mother to have stayed, but when she found out about Ward’s affair, she packed her bags, left him the kids, headed out of Harmony.

“I guess your mind’s made up,” Ward said, getting up, heading for the whiskey bottle. “I reckon you’re about ready to leave.”

“I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone,” Waverly said. “A few months. Penn have deferred my place for a year.”

Ward nodded, pouring himself a large whiskey, looking at Nicole by way of invitation. She shook her head declining the offer of a drink, despite needing one. “I’ll be with Waverly,” Nicole said. “We’ll have an apartment with five bedrooms, one for each of us.”

Ward sipped his whiskey. “What are you getting out of it?” he asked.

“I…we get to make a go of the band,” Nicole replied. “The record label will push our music out. It’s a good deal. But, if it doesn’t work I’ll make sure Waverly gets into college.”

“So, you’re Waverly’s keeper now. She does what you say.”

“No…I,” Nicole stuttered. “Waverly can make up her own mind. It’s just…I’m older, I’ll protect her.”

“Protect her from what?”

Nicole attempted to dig herself out the hole, finding herself sinking deeper. “What Nicole means,” Waverly interrupted, “is the band is a group, we’ll look out for each other. We’re each getting an advance to help us.”

“How much?” Ward asked.

“Five thousand dollars,” Waverly replied, before Nicole could give the true figure. “I’m thinking I could send you half.”

“Could do with the money, that’s for sure,” Ward replied, taking another sip. “Keep it. Don’t want it said I need a daughter to support me.”

“A gift,” Waverly offered, Ward shaking his head.

“I have enough.”

Waverly stood, looking back at Nicole, approaching her father. “The offer’s there if you ever need it.”

She held out her arms to hug her father, he merely looking at her, raising his glass to his lips, taking another sip. Backing away, her eyes motioned for Nicole to follow her. “I’ll miss you,” she said as she was about to leave the room, hoping he would say the same, or something, anything to let her know he felt sad at her departure. He continued to sip his whiskey, waiting for the pair to depart.

“I’m so sorry, Waverly,” Nicole said as they left the house, walking towards the water. “Are you okay?”

Waverly shook her head, tears arriving, her right hand brushing away a few. “He’s so fucking cold. Now you know why everyone leaves him. Now you know why I had to get out of this place.”

Nicole scanned the area to check if anyone was present, spotting a neighbour in their garden, her arms aching to hug Waverly. “Let’s go for a drive. I know a spot that’s quiet.”

Waverly followed, the short journey in the car undertaken in silence, tears still falling. Nicole parked up, leaning over to brush Waverly’s face. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Ward is a fucking cold-hearted bastard not to see how much love is right in front of his nose.”

“I just wanted…” Waverly began, her shoulders heaving. “I just wanted him to say he was happy for me. Is that too much to ask?”

“No. Waves. He’s too bitter to say that.”

“He didn’t even want my money. He couldn’t even accept that.”

“He’s a proud man,” Nicole replied. “I thought I’d fucked up when I mentioned how many rooms the apartment will have.”

Waverly looked over. “Will we have a room? Together.”

“Of course, if that’s what you want. It might be useful to have a spare room for our clothes though.”

Nicole didn’t want to admit to Waverly she thought having separate rooms would be a good idea. At least in the beginning, until they adjusted to being together in the same house with the others. Their relationship was still in its infancy, still fresh, still exciting, would have the potential to grow now they were about to live under the same roof, sharing a bed. She realised, however, in the short time they spent in New York how easy it was for emotions to boil over, neither knowing the other sufficiently to have found their rhythm in handling the tensions, the disagreements that inevitably come with being in a relationship. 

Nicole also knew from the brief time she was with Shae, playing together and sleeping together had its complications, each needing to find their own space in the relationship to let it breathe. It was why that relationship had died, suffocated by proximity. She hoped, she prayed it would be different with Waverly given how different she was from Shae. Only time would tell.

The apartment in New York was adequate, the guys letting Nicole and Waverly choose their room first, Nicole in turn letting Waverly make the final decision. She chose the brightest room, with the largest window, dumping her bags on the floor, testing the bed. Nicole joined her, staring up at the ceiling, blissfully content to be sharing a room with a decent-sized bed with her girlfriend. She glanced over at Waverly, who didn’t look quite as happy, lost in her own thoughts. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Waverly sat up. “It all feels so real. Being here, with you. It’s too good. What if…what if we…”

Nicole sat up, placing an arm round Waverly, pulling her in. “Do you mean, what if we argue? You get the couch.”

“But, what if we fall out? What if we can’t be friends?”

“Hey, hey. There will be times when things won’t be great. When I’ll do, more likely say something stupid, and you’ll be pissed at me. Just tell me. This is all new. The band, us, it’s gonna take time to adjust, for all of us. And, it’s okay to be pissed at each other. That’s healthy.”

“But, what if we break up? I don’t think I could watch you with anyone else.”

“Waves, one step at a time. It would kill me too if you were with someone else. So, I’m guessing we’d better stay together. Right.”

The evening was spent eating pizza, watching a horror movie, arguing over who would load the dishwasher. Waverly took control, drawing up a rota for everything, determined not to have to take on all the chores she had been forced to do while living under the same roof as her father. Nicole waited for Waverly to turn in to speak to the others in private. “Look guys, Waverly’s only eighteen and a little fragile right now. So, go easy on her and don’t expect her to do everything in the apartment.”

Troy grabbed another slice of pizza. “But, who will wash my clothes?” he teased. “I’m not old enough to look after myself. I need my mommy.”

“And, no teasing her. And, no calling her mommy. She’ll flip out.”

Mercedes arrived early the next day, bringing coffee and donuts, checking they had settled in, asking if they needed anything. Their diaries would be full for quite some time, Mercedes leaving them with a schedule, telling them to call her assistant if there was a problem, or her if necessary. She asked Nicole to step outside, Waverly eyeing them suspiciously as they headed towards the door. “How’s everything going? Is Waverly eating?”

Nicole nodded. “It’s cool. She learnt her lesson. I’ve spoken with everyone and said go easy, give us time to settle in.”

“You’ll need time apart,” Mercedes recommended. “If you need a break, call me, you can stay at mine for a few days. I’d like to get to know you.”

“We’ve been through this,” Nicole replied. “I’m with Waverly, and the band. We get through this together.”

Mercedes ran her fingers down Nicole’s arm, enjoying the resistance. “The offer’s there if you need it. I’ll admit you interest me. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’d like us to be more than friends. But, I won’t come between you and Waverly. That’s not my style. I’m here for you, in the meantime, as a friend.”

Nicole returned to the apartment, everyone staring at her, Waverly’s eyes piercing her soul. “Seriously, what?” she snapped, sensing the tension in the room. “Someone fucking say something.”

“What’s going on with you and Mercedes?” Alex asked, taking his third donut. “She’s not exactly subtle.”

“Nothing. There’s nothing going on. She…there’s nothing going on.”

Nicole stormed out, heading to the bedroom, needing time alone. Waverly entered, closing the door, standing with her arms folded. “Spill.” Nicole continued to study her phone, unable to meet Waverly’s eyes. “Nicole, I’m waiting. You owe me an explanation.”

“I don’t. Can we drop it?”

“Did Mercedes make another move on you?”

Nicole looked up, wishing she wasn’t having this conversation, knowing she needed to clear the air. She nodded. “Look, I can handle this. She won’t come between us. I promise.”

“I fucking knew it. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? She wants you, so she dragged us to New York.”

“No, it’s not like that. She wants the band to succeed. She’s invested in us. She promised she wouldn’t come between us.”

“But, she has. She has come between us. She fucking has, Nicole.”

Nicole hopped off the bed, holding back. “She hasn’t. She’s just mind fucking us. You can’t let her do this.”

“She can have you,” Waverly yelled, not quite knowing why, slamming the door behind her.

 _Fuck,_ Nicole thought. _Fucking great. I don’t know what to say, and you’re right to be mad. Why does everything have to be so fucking complicated?_

She didn’t know whether to go after Waverly, let her have some time on her own, go grab a drink at ten in the morning. She returned to the lounge, the guys pretending not to have heard the argument. “Fucking say something,” Nicole said, after a few moments silence. “Just fucking say it.”

Dylan came and sat beside her. “If Mercedes was making a move on Waverly how would you feel?”

Nicole felt the jolt through her body at the realisation. “Fuck, thanks. Needed that. God, you’re good. Be right back.”

She found Waverly in the spare room, sobbing, sweeping her up in her arms, hugging her. “I’m so fucking stupid sometimes. I’ve spent most of my life not fighting for what I want. I’ve let my life slide because I wasn’t brave enough to go after what I knew would make me happy. You. You make me happy, deliriously happy and I’m letting fucking Mercedes come between us. You’re the one, the only one who means everything to me.”

Waverly buried her head in Nicole’s shoulder. “Thank you. I’m sorry I shouted.”

“I’m glad you did. I needed it. You’ll never have to worry about us ever again. You hear.”

“Can we lie here for a while?” Waverly asked. “I don’t think I’m ready to face the others.”

“Sure, but we’ll need to get to the studio in a few hours.”

Waverly began undressing, Nicole watching her. “Waverly, I thought we were just going to lie here.”

“Shame to waste the bed,” Waverly said, half smiling, tear stains on her face. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” Nicole replied, heading to the door to lock it. “What am I do to with you Waverly Earp?”

“Anything you like,” Waverly replied, winking.

It helped having their first argument in the apartment, clearing away the tension that had been building, not just through Mercedes’ persistence in seducing Nicole, but living together under one roof. As much as Nicole and Waverly were navigating their relationship, finding how to be with each other, so too the guys needed to find a happy balance. There were a few fractious moments as everyone got used to being in the same space twenty-four seven. Alex had a tendency to use everything, without replacing it, Troy would leave the milk carton out, Dylan would spend hours in his room listening to music, in need of his own company, not used to having to socialise all the time.

Waverly slipped into her own rhythm, bossing everyone around, most times the others listening to her, occasionally pushing back. Nicole let it all happen, retreating to the bedroom herself to get away from any squabbles, careful not to side with Waverly all the time, knowing when to let her fight her own battles. She would step in only when Waverly had backed herself into a corner, got herself too worked up about keeping the place tidy, or washing left in the machine, mostly by Alex.

Their work in the studio was progressing, Matador pleased with the new songs, promoting them heavily. Their social media presence was growing, carefully curated, the band’s image improved with the help of a stylist, new equipment purchased, new venues booked, dates and locations of a tour being discussed. There were long days, and busy days, and dull days, and crazy days, each member handling them differently, each coping in their own way. Waverly seemed calmer after a few weeks, less fragile, less snappy. It took the pressure off Nicole, allowing her to focus on the music, get her songs out, work with the others to put music to her words. 

They finished recording their eleventh song three weeks after arriving, a new song, one Nicole had had rattling in her brain for some time, entitled Leaving Home Behind. Matador rushed to push it out, watching as the number of hits went stratospheric. Dolls called Mercedes to tell her the good news. “Seven million hits, and counting. It’s their best one yet.”

“And, they’re only just warming up,” Mercedes replied, already thinking about which record label to approach next. 

“I need them out on tour as quickly as possible. They’re ready to go global.”


	28. the Hyperventilation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole just needs a moment alone...
> 
> Music mood: [Stevie Nicks: Edge of Seventeen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dn8-4tjPxD8)

An assistant from Matador Records arrived at the apartment to hand deliver a large envelope containing tour details, telling them to contact Dolls if they had questions. Troy opened it, extracting all the papers, scanning the information. “Los Angeles, here we come,” Troy yelled, punching the air as he read the list of venues for the tour. “Holy, fucking shitballs. Oh fuck.”

Nicole took the schedule from him, her mouth falling open, suddenly developing a cold sweat. “Oh, fuck, fuck. I’m not ready.”

Her hands shook as she handed the schedule to Waverly, who too stood open-mouthed, alternating between what she was reading and Nicole’s reaction. “Oh fuck.”

Nicole needed to sit down. “I’m okay. Just give me a moment. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. Okay breathe. I’ve got this. I’ve got this. I haven’t got this. I need air.”

She stood, deliberating whether to grab her jacket from the bedroom, or run out the front door. She chose to leave her jacket, Waverly in pursuit. Nicole’s legs carried her faster than Waverly could keep up, shouting after her to slow down. She couldn’t hear, the blood in her ears pounding, or was that her heart trying to explode through her chest. She could feel a panic attack approaching, reaching the end of the street, a haze of traffic, a cacophony of sounds adding to her already overanxious state. Gasping for air, she grabbed a nearby railing for support, bent over in a desperate bid to get it into her lungs.

Waverly caught up, rubbing her back, telling her to take slow deep breaths, letting her calm down. She managed to grab the paper bag that came with the donuts on the way out, knowing the signs from when she had suffered similar, offering it to Nicole. She took it, breathing in and out, her world spinning, reality hitting too hard, too fast. She wanted to run, as far and as fast as she could, trapped by the future, trapped by the past, now trapped by the present, her responsibility to the band and to Waverly. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t function, right now she couldn’t breathe. _Breathe,_ she said to herself, _just breathe. Breathe. Fucking breathe. Oh God, breathe._

She felt hands on her back, soothing her. They irritated, made her feel foolish, shrugging them off, needing space to breathe, to think, to process. A voice, a man’s voice, blurry, someone she recognised, kneeling before her, staring up at her. Dylan. Dylan was there, telling her something, trying to reassure. Another wave of panic, her eyes staring blankly back at him, then blackness.

Dylan caught her as she went down, managing to save her from hitting her head on the sidewalk. He carried her back, Waverly by his side, ashen-faced, unable to speak, in shock herself. Alex and Troy rushed to help as Dylan carried Nicole in, laying her the couch, waiting for her to come round. Waverly clung to her side, holding Nicole’s hand, patting it. She felt her stir, her eyes opening, looking at four faces staring at her. Waverly helped her up, holding out the paper bag again, desperate to help. Nicole batted it away, wanting to cry, not able to let the emotions out.

“Guys, give her space,” Waverly instructed. “Dylan, can you get her a glass of water?”

Troy was on the phone to Mercedes. “Hi sweetie. What do you think of the tour?”

“Can you get us a doctor?”

“What? Why? What’s happened?”

“Nicole. She needs to see someone.”

“Sweetie, what’s wrong with her? Is she sick?”

“Panic attack. Fainted. She looks awful.”

“I’m on it. Someone stay with her. I’ll be right over.”

“I don’t need help,” Nicole snapped, trying to get up from the couch. “I’m okay. I don’t need a doctor.”

She went to stand, her head pounding, stars dancing before her eyes. “Oh fuck, I’m going to puke.”

Falling back on the couch, she closed her eyes, trying not to let the name of the band they would be supporting send her spiralling into another panic attack. “I need to lie down.”

“Are you well enough to stand?” Waverly asked, kneeling before her.

“How can I support them?” Nicole asked. “And, Stevie Nicks. Where’s the bag?”

Waverly handed it to her, watching Nicole take slow breaths. “Don’t think about it. Just calm your breathing.”

“I can’t,” Nicole said, dropping the bag on her lap. “The Red Hot Chili Peppers. How the fuck?”

“Nicole, just focus on me,” Waverly instructed. “Look at me. No one else. Just breathe.”

“Waverly, I can’t,” Nicole replied, the tears finally coming. “I can’t.”

The guys watched, uncomfortable at such a public display of emotion, except Dylan, who sat beside Nicole, letting her rest her head on his shoulder, sobbing. Waverly had tears running down her cheeks, caught up in the emotion, trying to support Nicole as best she could. It was the first time she had seen scared Nicole, believing her to be some rock chic, comfortable performing in front of live audiences, getting the crowd going. It never occurred to her that might simply have been a front, a way of getting through a gig, still new to everything that went with living the rock and roll lifestyle.

It hurt, hurt like hell to see Nicole so upset, knowing she had kept all that in, pretending she had it all under control. All she wanted to do was hug her, tell her everything would be alright. Except, she couldn’t. She didn’t know if everything would be alright. She didn’t even know if she could get up on stage in front of tens of thousands of screaming fans and play. Troy tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, let’s go for a walk. Give Nicole a moment.”

Waverly followed, looking back at Nicole in case she needed her, Alex motioning for them to go. They walked a short distance, finding a café, Troy buying them sodas, letting Waverly have time to process what was happening. He reached across the table, taking her hand. “So, this is where shit gets real,” he began, Waverly unable to meet his gaze. “Part of the reason Shae didn’t want Nicole fronting the band is this. Nicole is the more talented, the more gifted musically, but she’s sensitive, haunted by her past. She thinks she’ll humiliate herself. Fuck it up in front of thousands. Be exposed.”

Waverly looked up. “I don’t understand. I thought she was panicking because she’ll have to support Red Hot Chili Peppers and Stevie Nicks.”

“Well, that doesn’t help. No, the real reason is what happened in the woods. Has she told you?”

Waverly shook her head. “My sister rescued her from the cabin. That’s all I know.”

“It’s a bit more complicated than that,” Troy replied, taking a long swig of his soda. “See, a group of kids ambushed her, stole her clothes, locked her in the woodshed, wrote words on the outside.”

“What words? Troy, what did they write?”

“That she liked girls. Nicole was tricked into thinking someone liked her. Except, she didn’t. Her brother put her up to it. Wanted Nicole to pay for having rejected him. They didn’t know she really was what they wrote on that woodshed.”

“Oh God, I didn’t know. Was my sister involved?”

Troy shook his head. “The girl who tricked her got scared. Told Wynonna. If it wasn’t for your sister, Nicole would have spent all night in that woodshed alone, naked, having been taunted because of who she is.”

“Was anyone punished?”

“Nope. Nicole refused to name names. Her mother removed her from the school, guessing who had been behind it, plus your sister gave her a few clues. That’s how she ended up in your school.”

“What do we do?” Waverly asked. “She can’t perform like that. She’s a mess.”

“Leave it to us. We’ve got her through before. We’ll get her through this.”

Waverly hugged Troy. “Did Shae know? About the woodshed.”

Troy nodded. “She was cut up when Nicole decided to cool things. Nicole couldn’t handle the pressure of the relationship, blaming herself for not being able to give Shae what she wanted.”

“What was that?” Waverly asked, not wanting to know the answer.

“Her love. She’s afraid to love in case the world laughs at her. Or, rejects her. One of the two. I’m not a fucking psychologist.”

“Is that why she never left Harmony? Or, got a decent job, or, followed her dreams of being a musician.”

“I guess. You’ve helped her see beyond the limitations she put on herself. Honestly thought she’d turned a corner after meeting you. You’re good for her, you know. And, she loves you. She wouldn’t be doing all this if she didn’t. She’s a stubborn ass kid when she wants to be.”

“But, I’m the one who pushed her, without realising. I made her go after her dreams. If only I’d known, I would never. I should never…”

“I’ve never seen Nicole so happy,” Troy interrupted. “Sure, she was happy with Shae, for a while. But, not like this. She adores you, would do anything for you. Even beyond what terrifies her the most, just to have you in her life.”

Tears streamed down Waverly’s face. “If she’s only doing this for me. It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair on her. God, I’m such a fool. I thought I was doing her a favour. I thought all she needed was a push. I didn’t know.”

“No, you didn’t. And, that’s not your fault. If Nicole didn’t want this, if she didn’t want to make a go of the band, she would have found a way of getting out of it. Takes a lot of effort not to amount to anything. And, Nicole has mastered that. She could have gone to university, had a place lined up and everything. Harvard Law. Gave it up to mend boats.”

“I need to talk to her. I can’t let her do this. Not if it means she’ll die on stage.”

Troy squeezed her hand. “Just be there for her. Show her how much she means to you. I’ve known Nicole long enough to know she’s not going to let a panic attack stop her now, now that she’s free of Harmony. Even if we have to drag her kicking and screaming onto that stage.”

They returned, Nicole lying down, the curtains drawn, Waverly lying next to her. “I’m so sorry. Nicole, I’m so sorry. Those kids were mean to you, what they did. You’re a beautiful, beautiful soul, who I love more than anyone in the world. If I ever find out who it was, I’ll rip their arms and legs off.”

Nicole didn’t say anything, facing away, her eyes red from crying. Waverly brushed her hair back, hoping it might help, hoping her being there might help. It didn’t matter, except it did. She wanted Nicole to know she wasn’t alone, trapped naked in a woodshed by a group of bullies who wanted to humiliate her. “I can’t change the past for you,” Waverly continued. “But, we can show those fuckers you can’t be defeated. Imagine their faces when they see you, Nicole Haught, international rock chic taking over the world, driving through Harmony in your matt black Lamborghini, giving them the bird.”

Nicole turned over, the look on her face breaking Waverly’s heart. “I guess. And, owning that house.”

“Yes, owning that house. We’ll send a message to those bullies they will never win. That we’re the heroes of this story, because we’re that fucking good. You’re that fucking good. See, you’re rubbing off on me. Nicole Haught, I refuse to let you waste another moment of your life on some stupid prank. You’re queer, be proud of it. You’re with me, and we’ll sing it to the world. In front of millions, if we have to.”

“Can we start smaller?” Nicole asked, a smile forming. “I’m kind of having a bit of a crisis with the whole numbers thing at the moment.”

“One person, or fifty, or five hundred, or…you get the picture. You’re singing out for love. For us. Don’t you see? They’ve won if you let them.”

“Are you okay kissing someone with a face like this?” 

“Always. Come here you big adorable, super-talented, softie. And, stop making me fall in love with you even more. I’m losing my power over you, which won’t do.”

Mercedes burst in on them as they were embracing, pausing for a moment to take in the scene, wishing she was the one lying next to Nicole. “I thought you were panicking over the tour.”

Waverly turned her head. “I’ve got this. She just needed a Miss Positive pep talk.”

“Fucking great. No theatrics, no emotional outbursts. Nicole a word. Now.”

Nicole looked at Waverly. “I’d better go talk to her.”

“I’m coming with you, this time. We establish ground rules. Earp rules.”

The three sat in the lounge, the guys hovering until Mercedes ordered them out. “I’ve left an important fucking negotiation to get over here, and you’re lying in bed lip syncing with Miss Perfect here. What’s going on?”

“I got stressed about who we’d be supporting. We’ve not played to that large a crowd. Most is a thousand.”

“Nicole, sweetie, you and I both know this is what you’ll need to do to make it. Get in front of bigger audiences, show them what you can do. It’s this, or Harmony. Take your pick.”

“Mercedes,” Waverly replied. “Nicole isn’t a performing doll. She’s an artist, a talented artist, who happens to be scared of performing in front of larger audiences. You said you’d support us. If that support extends to only grabbing a piece of our record deal, then you’re no good for us. Or, Nicole. She needs all of us more than ever.”

Mercedes wanted to bite back, her eyes bearing into Waverly. “You’re right sweetie, she does need us. But, I need her to step up. I said this business takes no prisoners, it destroys anyone not prepared to go out there, night after night, concert after concert, no matter how big, how scary and fucking singing like your life depended on it. It accepts nothing less.”

“We know that,” Nicole replied. “I know that. It’s just it’s too big a leap right now. I need time.”

Mercedes threw up her hands. “Fine. I’ll tell Matador. We’ll build up to it. You win.”

Mercedes marched out leaving them to celebrate their first victory over their manager. “See, I told you we’d win,” Waverly said, bringing her lips to Nicole’s. “We’ll get there. The long route. Even if we’re old and grey and have no teeth left, we’ll make it.”

The guys were understanding, given how close they’d come to Nicole jacking it all in, running back to Harmony. They too were relieved not to be playing in front of their biggest audience just yet, agreeing the longer road suited them all just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Performance anxiety: there are so many stories of famous performers who had severe stage fright. The following link even mentions Barbra Streisand, who at the height of her career experienced it. Yes, poor Nicole always gets it in the neck in my stories. But, I wanted to draw attention to what we think fame is like, if we've not experienced it. And, what it's like for someone having to live that life. Ain't all roses...
> 
> [GoodTherapy: Performance Anxiety](https://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/psychpedia/performance-anxiety)


	29. the Hitchhikers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people want to know Wayhaught now they're famous...
> 
> Music mood: [Makthaverskan: Witness](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0p6Y7C4hbOc&t=38s)

Dolls initially was reluctant to revise the touring schedule, having spent a lot of time and effort securing the best support slots for the band. It was Mercedes who, through her ability to talk straight when she had to, convinced him not to push Nicole to perform when she wasn’t mentally prepared, explaining it would jeopardise what Wayhaught could bring to the world and his bank balance. 

Sure, there were hundreds of bands like Wayhaught, all with the talent to make it. Where Wayhaught stood out was in how five unique performers, who if put in any other band would probably have been overlooked, were able to produce a sound capturing a heartbeat of the moment. In part it was Nicole’s haunting lyrics and unique voice, partly the musical arrangement to the songs, partly their cohesion of sound. It worked. It really worked.

Three months into touring the band had grown accustomed to life on the road. Dolls was careful to keep venues small to begin with, gradually increasing their size as Nicole came into her own, gaining confidence, accepting she was good enough to perform in front of larger crowds. Waverly too was finding her place. She struggled with being the new girl, the outsider, not that anyone made her feel that way, other than Mercedes. The others had been together some time, had worked through their differences, knew each other musically. She didn’t. She was new to performing, new to being in a band, new to being in a same-sex relationship. 

Navigating all the little twists and turns that came with her new life took time and the occasional cross word. In a way, Nicole’s panic attack the day she learnt who she would be supporting changed the dynamic of their relationship. It opened up a deeper level of honesty. The closet in which Nicole’s skeletons had been hidden had been thrown open, a bright light shone in, the scary shadows of her past illuminated in front of the person she was falling in love with.

Nicole no longer needed to pretend it was all okay. She could tell Waverly she was having a bad day, or a sad day, even a mad day. And, so could Waverly, who no longer needed to pretend to be in control all the time, a legacy of having been left at home with Ward. She had had to grow up quickly when Wynonna left, taking on the household duties at the age of sixteen. It helped, knowing how to cook, how to keep a place tidy, how to manage herself, her studies, her life. It’s what got her to Penn, or nearly got her to Penn. Except, sometimes she needed to remember she didn’t have to be the adult in the room, hands on hips, shouting at everyone to clear up, or huffily removing pizza boxes, or sorting out the dishwasher.

Nicole helped her to see she could kick back, have fun. They would take time out, go do fun things, enjoy where they were in the world, or simply go to a movie, cuddle in the back row, feed each other popcorn, miss the end of a film when passions got the better of them. Waverly had also learnt to slow down, her race to remove hers and Nicole’s clothes becoming a slower dance, a sensuous dance of touching and tasting, taking time for each other. 

Nicole was sleeping, her back to Waverly, another successful concert under their belt. Waverly was catching up on messages from friends back home and Wynonna. Dolls had been right when he said there would be those who wanted to be friends simply to bask in their success. Like Natalie, a girl who rarely spoke to Waverly when she was in high school, dismissing her as not cool enough because she happened to be one of the brighter students. Suddenly, Natalie was in contact pretending to be one of her besties, having begged one of Waverly’s genuine friends for her number. 

It irritated Waverly at first, telling her small group of real friends to keep her number safe, not give it out to anyone else. She didn’t mind Natalie having her number, except she did. All those years when they could have been friends she was snubbed. Now, when she was the more popular of the two, Natalie was supposedly desperate to know her. They exchanged a few polite texts, Waverly telling her about Tokyo where they were performing, Natalie asking if she could send her a signed photo. Waverly obliged, passing on Natalie’s details to their social media co-ordinator at Matador who handled such requests, telling him to write something on the photo for her, knowing Natalie wouldn’t know the difference. 

Nicole’s phone buzzed. A message from Robin, unusual given they hadn’t been in contact since New York. He wanted to let Nicole know he had been approached by the girl who tricked her into going to the woods that fateful day. Nicole pulled the phone towards her, still half asleep, wondering if it was her mother wanting to know about last night’s concert. Her eyes read and re-read the text unable to take in what was happening. Waverly glanced over, seeing the colour drain from Nicole’s face, worried something bad had happened back home. “Babes, what’s wrong? Is it bad news?”

Nicole handed Waverly the phone for her to read Robin’s message, getting out of bed, pacing the room. “Fucking impossible,” she said, wanting to punch something, knowing if she did she would probably damage her hand. “All these years. All these fucking years, now this, like none of it mattered.”

“Do you want to talk to her?” Waverly asked, placing the phone on the side table, knowing better than to try to console Nicole when she was in pacing mode.

“Nope. She can rot. She screwed me over and now wants to be friends. I spent years scared of letting anyone know about me because of that bitch. And, now it’s all, hey Nicole let’s be best pals. No fucking way. She doesn’t get to be anything to me. I’m not having her in my life. Do you hear? She’s not coming anywhere near me.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” Waverly reassured, watching as Nicole paced faster and faster. “She’s just some bitch who thinks she knows you.”

“I bet she’s telling everyone she’s my best friend. I’ve a good mind to tell her to go fuck herself. That’s what I’ll do. No, I don’t want to know her. I’m so fucking mad right now. I’m going for a walk.”

Waverly tried not to giggle. “Darling, I think you need to put some clothes on first.”

“Why now? Hey,” Nicole continued, clearly not finished. “Why does she have to get inside my head now? I fucking hate this.”

“Nicole, my darling, you’re letting her live inside your head. She doesn’t deserve anything from you. Although, and don’t shout at me, if you talked to her, told her how she made you feel.”

“I’m not fucking talking to her,” Nicole yelled, forgetting others might be able to hear. “There’s no way I’m ever fucking speaking to her. Get that into your head.”

“Okay, okay. Don’t yell at me. I’m not the problem here.”

Nicole stopped pacing. “Sorry, sorry. I know, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry. I’ll tell Robin to tell her to fuck herself. Waves, I’m sorry. I’m just mad that’s all. Fucking parasite.”

Waverly got out of bed, wrapping her arms round Nicole’s waist. “She just wants famous Nicole, that’s all. She probably doesn’t even remember what happened, or doesn’t care. But, you do. You’ve had to live with what she did to you. She doesn’t get you now.”

“I need a shower,” Nicole said. “I feel violated.”

“Would you like me to help you relax?” Waverly offered, giving Nicole a look she knew she would find hard to resist.

Nicole nodded, grabbing Waverly’s hand, dragging her to the bathroom. 

Waverly could tell Nicole was still agitated as they went to breakfast, head down, hardly talking, not able to engage even with her. They took a stroll round town, a few people recognising them, asking for their autograph and to have their photos taken. Nicole obliged, smiling for each of the shots, returning to her inner world as soon as a fan moved off. She was no nearer to making peace with the situation that afternoon, Waverly beginning to worry it would affect her performance. 

Whatever this girl meant to Nicole, whatever she had done all those years ago, it was eating Nicole from the inside, snapping at Dylan, Waverly having to quietly explain to him why she was in such a foul mood. When Nicole snapped at her before they departed for the concert venue that evening, she had had enough, snapping back telling her to grow up. Nicole stormed off as soon as they arrived, finding the restroom, locking herself in one of the cubicles. Waverly left her there to stew, knowing to try to coax Nicole out of her darkened mood would only drive her deeper into it.

The beauty of living with someone is you get to see everything, the good, the bad, the ugly. And, Nicole was in ugly territory. Half an hour before they were due to begin performing, Nicole was still in the restroom, Waverly deciding she’d stewed enough, that she needed to prepare herself for the show. If she didn’t, her performance would suffer and she would be in an even darker mood the next day. Waverly hammered on the door. “You are letting this get to you. Nicole Haught, I haven’t come all this way with you to let this girl live rent free in your head. Now, get the fuck out here and face the world like a grown up.”

Nicole unlocked the door. “I don’t feel well.”

Waverly rolled her eyes. “I’m not surprised. You’ve hardly eaten, you look dreadful and you’ve spent the past hour sitting in a restroom. Is this what you want?”

Nicole shook her head. “I can’t stop thinking about that day. I thought the crazy dude would come in, find me naked, do things.”

Waverly took her hands. “I’m going to say this now, and I know you’re going to shout at me, but it has to be said. Ring her, tell her what she did to you. Please, for your own peace of mind.”

“I can’t. What would I say to her? That I was outed in the cruellest way possible. That I genuinely didn’t know after that day if someone fancied me, or was just tricking me. I couldn’t even approach you because of what she did.”

“My darling, let me ring her. Let me tell her for you. You can’t carry on like this, so either we face it, or we forget it. And, clearly forgetting about it ain’t working. Is it?”

Nicole handed Waverly her phone. “Don’t tell her I’m still upset at what happened. And, don’t tell her I fancied her. And, don’t…”

Waverly glared at Nicole. “Do you want to make the call?”

Nicole shook her head, Waverly phoning Robin to ask for the girl’s number. He was surprised to hear her voice, asking how it was going, wondering when he would see them next. Number acquired, Waverly waited for the person to answer, a woman’s voice in her ear. “Hi, who’s this?”

“It’s Waverly Earp, Robin told me you’re looking to reach Nicole.”

There was a pause, the woman shocked to be speaking to Waverly. “I…I needed to tell her something. Is she there?”

“She’s getting ready for our concert. What do you need to tell her? I’ll relay it.”

Another pause, the woman composing herself to tell Nicole what had been on her mind for years. “I wanted to tell her how sorry I am for what I did to her. It wasn’t my idea, but I did go along with it. I wish I never took part. I can still see her face, the look of betrayal in her eyes. It’s haunted me ever since.” 

Waverly’s eyes were watering, Nicole asking her what she was saying. “She didn’t deserve what was done to her. She’s had to live with that too. It was cruel.”

“I know. I fell out with my brother because of it. Haven’t spoken to him in years. Can you tell her I’m truly sorry. Can you also tell her, I’m like her. It took me years to realise, but what they wrote on that shed, that is me too. So, I know how much it must have hurt.”

“You need to tell Nicole,” Waverly replied, handing the phone to her, Nicole frantically shaking her head. “It’s okay, you need to hear this. Speak to her.”

“Hi, it’s Nicole.”

“Hi, I’m so, so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, not like that. I’m not asking for forgiveness. Lord knows I don’t deserve it after what we did to you. I just wanted you to know, not a day goes by when I don’t think about you, what I did to you.”

“It’s okay. I’m over it,” Nicole replied, Waverly thumping her on the arm hearing the lie. “I mean, it hurt. It still hurts, but it’s in the past.”

“You’ve done well to put it behind you. I’ve followed you on social media, you look amazing. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks. Waverly’s helped a lot.”

“Listen, what we called you that day, we were kids, we didn’t know any better. I know now. I’m with someone. She’s caring and funny. I’ve told her what happened. She was the one who said I needed to tell you. That what we did was beyond cruel.”

“So, you’re queer. Fucking knew it,” Nicole said. “I knew when you kissed me that wasn’t pretend. I knew it. Thank fuck for that. You know, for years that screwed me up more.”

“I wish things had been different. I wish we’d been friends, instead of what happened. I wish so many things about that day. I’m glad you’ve found music. You’re amazing, so talented and so sexy on stage.”

“Thanks. Listen, gotta go. Nice talking with you.”

Nicole hung up, the tension in her face gone, some colour returning. “Well, how about that. She’s queer. I get locked in a woodshed and she’s queer.”

“Would you like to thank me now, or later,” Waverly interrupted.

“Thank you. Seriously, thank you. God, what a relief. I can feel the weight gone. God, that feels good. Annoyingly, you were right.”

“I’m always right,” Waverly replied, winking. “Now, we have a show to do, Miss I’m less right than Waverly Haught.”

“You’re going to milk this, aren’t you,” Nicole said, beaming. “I’m so relieved. Fucking queer, who would have thought.”

“And, what’s this about kissing her. That wasn’t mentioned. You kept that bit quiet.”

“I need some secrets.”

The crowd erupted as Nicole appeared on stage, waving to her adoring fans.


	30. the Highway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh no...what have you done Nicole...
> 
> Music mood: [Adele: Set Fire To The Rain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WjqYTpE6Qdg)

Nicole came off stage, buzzing, her best performance ever. For once she actually enjoyed it, more precisely, she allowed herself to enjoy it, the whole two hours performing, her call with the girl who tricked her in the woods having released something deep inside. Ideas for songs were spinning in her head, not letting her sleep, forcing her to sit for hours in the lounge area of their hotel, writing down lyrics, strumming notes on her guitar.

Waverly found her at four am, still high, one coffee too many, desperate for someone to hear her music. “I feel alive,” she said, seeing Waverly approach, eyes sparkling with a new energy, words tumbling from her mouth at speed. “It’s all coming out, like a dam bursting.”

“Come to bed,” Waverly suggested. “You’ll be exhausted in the morning and we have to pack.”

“I need to finish this first. Packing can wait. This is important.”

“You won’t be saying that when I’m shouting at you. Fine, stay here, do your thing, I’m going back to bed. I’ll pack in the morning. But, don’t moan when you can’t find anything. You know what happened last time.”

“That’s because you packed all my underwear in the wrong case. I like them in the blue case. Red for tees.”

Waverly laughed. “I love you. You’re funny, and infuriating, and frustrating, and have a weird thing about coloured cases, but you’re utterly lovable. Don’t be too long.”

Nicole looked up. “Aren’t you going to stay here and listen?”

Waverly threw her hands up, walking off, leaving Nicole to continue her creative ride. She was fast asleep on a couch when Waverly returned at nine, shaking her gently, Nicole opening one eye. “Must have dozed off. I’m nearly finished.”

“It’ll have to wait. We need to leave in one hour. I’ve packed your things. Underwear in the red case.”

“No, no, I like them in the blue case. You know I do,” Nicole replied, looking like a child whose parent had chosen the wrong toy for vacation.

“I’m teasing. Come on, you look exhausted and you probably need a shower before we go.”

“Five more minutes here, then I’ll come up.”

“No. Now. I’m not leaving you here. You’ll either carry on writing, or fall asleep. Up, now.”

“Alright, alright. God, you’re bossy.”

“That’s what you like about me. And, a few other things. Nicole, up now. I’m waiting.”

Nicole pulled herself off the couch, stretching, looking back at it contemplating if she lay down again whether Waverly would have the strength to be able to move her. She decided not to test that theory, knowing Waverly would go grab a jug of cold water to throw over her, as she had once before when she fell asleep at an after party.

Gathering up her notes, picking up her guitar, she trudged behind Waverly to the room, her bags and cases lined up neatly by the door, the room checked for anything they might have left behind. Waverly was nothing if not efficient. Nicole fell on the bed, desperate for more sleep, a sharp thump to her leg making her groan. “I’m so tired. I could sleep for a week.”

“And, whose fault is that. You’re the one who stayed up all night writing songs. You can sleep when we get to the next location, which is…” Waverly pulled out her phone. “Berlin. Then we’re heading to Madrid. Wynonna’s going to try to get to us. I’ve sent her money for a flight and there’s a ticket reserved for the concert.”

“Madrid,” Nicole said, dreamily. “I like Madrid.”

“You’ve never been. How can you like a place you’ve never been to?”

“I like the name. Madrid.”

“Great. You’re rambling. Nicole…Nicole, don’t fall asleep.”

“Madrid, where the girls let you do it up against a wall.”

“Nicole! Although, now you mention it. Please, please, for me. We need to get going soon.”

“I’ll take you against a wall.”

Waverly giggled. “Not like that you won’t. Fine, stay here. I’ll tell the boys to come carry you down to the van when we’re ready to go.”

Nicole was already fast asleep, dreaming of a house in Spain, one she had never visited, yet was so vivid she could almost smell the sweet jasmine wafting in the warm air, the repetitive chirp of crickets, the soft rustle of dry leaves in the heat of a Mediterranean evening. Something was drawing her there, some connection as yet unexplained, hidden behind a veil. She could see Waverly, her naked back pressed against a white wall, panting, eyes locked on hers. “I’m so close,” she kept saying. “Nicole, don’t stop. Oh God, Nicole…”

She woke, her own breathing faster for having dreamed a dream of taking Waverly against a wall. _Electric blue bra,_ she thought, as she hauled herself off the bed, heading to the bathroom. _Electric blue bra, stilettos to match. Hair falling on your shoulders, different perfume, sexier than your usual choice, alive to my touch, like the first time, in your bedroom. Wow, great lyrics._

The cool water cascading down her body did nothing to relieve the tension she was now feeling, her hand seeking to assist, doing little to ease the ache. She needed Waverly, there, with her, frustrated by her absence. She dried herself, wondering if Waverly had left out clean clothes. She had. She thought of everything. Heading downstairs, the others were waiting in the lobby where Nicole had spent most of the night. “Fuck, you look rough,” Troy said, on seeing her. “Late night.”

“Six new songs. And…” breaking off when she spotted Waverly talking with the hotel manager. She wanted her, more than any time before, unable to tear her eyes away from her gorgeous body dressed in a black crop tee shirt and short shorts. Very short shorts. Approaching, she waited for Waverly to finish speaking, the manager smiling at her, the way fans now smiled at her.

Waverly turned, studying Nicole’s face, wondering why she looked edgy. “So, you made it down without us having to carry you. Good girl.”

The way she purred the words “good girl” drove Nicole crazy. “Can I borrow you for a moment?” she said, grabbing Waverly’s hand, desperately searching for somewhere private. She spied the restroom, dragging Waverly towards the door, in need of personal assistance. Inside, she pulled Waverly into one of the cubicles, locking the door, unzipping her pants. “I’m beyond horny. I’ll explode if you don’t touch me.”

“Nicole, we have less than fifteen minutes before we leave and you want me to do it in a public restroom.”

Nicole nodded. “I had a dream about Spain, you in stilettos, blue, and a blue bra and nothing else.”

“I’m not doing it in a restroom. Someone might come in.”

“Let them. Waves, please.”

“No. I’m putting my foot down. We’ve got plenty of time in Berlin.”

“I’ll be dead before we reach Berlin.”

Waverly could see the desperation in Nicole’s face. “You owe me,” she said, sitting on the seat, moving her tongue in circles, not really getting into the moment, Nicole moaning as wave, upon wave of pleasure hit her. They were thankful no one else was using the restroom, Nicole’s moans growing louder and louder as she neared the point of no return. She grabbed Waverly’s head as she fell over the edge, her body satisfied, all tension released. 

Someone banged loudly on the door. “Guys, don’t want to hurry you,” Dylan said, uncomfortable being in a woman’s restroom, even more uncomfortable hearing the noises coming from the cubicle. “But, the van is here. We need to go.”

“Coming,” Nicole said, in a breathy voice, Waverly slapping her naked thigh.

Waverly gazed out the window as they headed to the airport. Something had changed in Nicole. She had never demanded anything like that before. It was usually her who initiated, Nicole responding. And, whatever dream she was having certainly was more erotic than the ones she’d ever mentioned in the past. She put it down to sleep deprivation, hoping Nicole would be able to calm down before their next concert. Nicole’s performance the night before had been electric, the best Waverly had ever seen, letting go, letting the music take her, her moves on stage more in tune with each song, her connection with the crowd stronger than ever before.

Nicole fell asleep as soon as their plane took off from Florence, heading to Berlin, a short hop, not enough for her to catch up on her sleep. They wouldn’t be playing for a few days, a chance to relax, unwind, except Nicole seemed to be riding a new wave of energy she didn’t know how to control. As soon as they entered their room, Nicole grabbed Waverly, pulling her towards the bed, wanting to continue what they had started in the restroom in Florence.

Waverly pushed her off, sitting up, not happy with what was going on. “Look, you need to tell me what’s the game here?” she said, Nicole looking at her as if she’d just been accused of shooting someone. “This…this isn’t you. Don’t get me wrong, I like new Nicole, but you’re making me edgy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Nicole replied, pulling off her tee shirt, hoping Waverly would do the same. “Ever since that phone call, it’s like I’m me. I can be me. I’ve held back for so long, and now I’m free.”

“But,” Waverly countered. “I normally have to drag you to bed and now you’re…you’re acting like me.”

“Right,” Nicole said, removing her bra. “Can we skip the talking and get to the loving.”

“What? You’re going to use that line on me.”

Nicole unzipped her pants. “Yep, if it works. Do you need help?”

Waverly glared at Nicole. “No, it fucking doesn’t work. You know I love us doing this, it, but seriously can you not treat me like I’m just here to get you off.”

“I’m not. The number of times I’ve obliged when I wasn’t in the mood.”

“Seriously, what? What did you just say?”

“No. What I meant was…can we just get under the covers.”

“So, you’ve been faking it. You’ve let me think you were enjoying what we were doing, and the whole time you were bored. Well, fuck you. Seriously, go fuck yourself.”

“I’d rather you did that,” Nicole replied, hoping to lighten the mood, totally not reading the room.

The slap to her face told her she had stepped way, way out of line, not quite sure why she said what she said to Waverly, knowing it was cruel, selfish, that Waverly had every right to react the way she was reacting. She watched as Waverly slammed the door, collecting her clothes from the floor, suddenly crashing, tears streaming down her face at what she had done. 

Waverly didn’t return. She checked herself into another room, sitting on her bed crying, waiting for Wynonna to reply to her texts. A knock on the door was met with a less-than-polite fuck off, Dylan’s voice the other side. “We’re going to grab something to eat. Do you want to come?”

She opened the door, Dylan seeing her face, his eyes heading for the carpet. “How did you know I was here?”

“Lobby. I was on one of their computers. Kind of guessed you needed a bit of space.”

“Can I talk to you?” she asked, waiting for him to say no, thankful as he nodded his head, entering the room.

They sat on the bed, Waverly not quite sure how to express the hurt she was feeling, not quite sure what was hurting most. “Nicole and I had a row.”

“Right. About time,” Dylan replied. “We had bets it would happen in Madrid.”

Waverly glanced over. “Why? Are we that predictable?”

“Nope. Only, you’re with each other 24/7, and Nicole’s Nicole. Had to happen sometime. Don’t know how you guys do it. No, no, I don’t mean do it. I mean keep going with all the shit that’s going on.”

“It’s not always easy. I don’t know if I’m with her because she wants to be with me, or because I’m in the band.”

“I’m not a relationship expert,” Dylan replied. “I have no experience with what you two are going through. But, I reckon Nicole loves you. She has this look when she’s looking at you, like it’s only you in the room. Fucking creepy, but I’m guessing that’s what love looks like.”

“I think I need a break,” Waverly announced, without processing the words.

“From Nicole?” Dylan asked. “How?”

“I don’t know. I’m losing myself. I can’t explain. I knew who I was before all this. And now, I’m not sure anymore. I don’t know what to do.”

“Right. A break from Nicole, or the band.”

Waverly didn’t know. Except she did. The answer was both. She needed to find who she was, sans band, sans Nicole. It was Nicole’s insistence she get her off in a public restroom that tipped her over the edge. It shouldn’t have. She knew she was thinking irrationally, but needed time to be herself. She was also longing to see Wynonna, talk to her as only a sister could talk to a sister, ask her what she should do. 

Waverly made her way down to the restaurant, looking for Nicole, worried when she couldn’t see her. Dylan offered to go get her, returning a few minutes later, Nicole trailing behind, head down, utterly defeated. Waverly’s instincts were to rush to her, comfort her, except she couldn’t. Not this time. And, it killed her.

Nicole sat opposite, occasionally looking up, her eyes red. She left before everyone had finished, heading out of the hotel, alone.

The bar she found was small, not quite sure how to order in German, someone recognising her. “I have tickets for you,” the woman said. “I buy you a drink, yes.”

Nicole nodded, sitting at a table with a group of trendy Berliners, drinking till she couldn’t remember her name. Waverly was sat in her room, alone, watching a movie, lonely for the first time since joining the band. There were no more tears, only a heart-aching sadness that Nicole was no longer her Nicole. If she ever had been. Perhaps she too was waking up from a dream, a fantasy of a perfect life, with a perfect girlfriend, on her own in a hotel room in Germany.

Nicole woke up the next morning, looking around, not sure where she was. That happened a lot. Moving hotels every few days, she’d often woken not knowing which city she was in, or the name of her hotel, even where the bathroom was located. This was different. Her head was pounding, the person in bed next to her not Waverly. She went to sit up, a wave of nausea hitting, telling herself not to puke. Too late. 

The girl turned over. Beautiful. Naked. Smiling at her.


	31. the Heartache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Nicole do the right thing...
> 
> Music mood: [Amy Winehouse: Love is a Losing Game](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4L9-AvjsB6g)

“Where am I?” Nicole asked, holding her head, staring at the pool of puke on the floor. “And, who the fuck are you?”

“Charlotte. But, you can call me Charlie.”

“And, where the fuck are my clothes?”

Charlie pointed to a neat pile on a chair, Nicole’s head throbbing, unable to remember any of the night before. The woman got up, asking if she wanted water and pills, Nicole trying not to look at her body as she stood by the door, her eyes lingering longer than they should. _Did I?_ she thought, _I was too drunk. Did she? Maybe she did things to me, and I let her. I’ve got to explain this to Waverly. I can’t, she’ll kill me. Why? Why do you fuck things up, when everything is perfect?_

“Are you going to puke again?” Charlie asked.

“I’m good,” Nicole lied, feeling another wave of nausea hit her body.

Waverly knocked on Nicole’s door. “Are you okay?” she asked, receiving no reply, assuming she was still asleep, or maybe at breakfast. She sent a message, saying she was sorry for storming off, that everything was getting to her.

Dylan was the only one at breakfast, smiling as she sat opposite, watching him tuck into a large plate of meats and cheese. “Have you seen Nicole?” she asked, picking at a small roll, letting her coffee cool.

“Nope. Unless she came back after I went to bed. Was in the lobby till two, so guess she made it a late one.”

“Why do you do that? Sit in a lobby, on a computer. You have a laptop.”

“Gets me out,” he replied, Waverly laughing. “I like to watch people coming and going. It’s my kink.”

“I tried her room. She’s probably asleep. I’ll let her lie in. She was up writing the night before, so I guess she’s catching up. You doing anything today?”

Dylan looked at her bemused. “Have you ever known me to do anything? I play games on computers in hotel lobbies. That’s it. That’s my thing.”

“Do you fancy doing something? You and me. We could go to the zoo, or Wannsee to see the lakes.”

“Zoo sounds interesting. Never been to a zoo.”

“Then, that’s where we’ll go. Let’s make a day of it.”

Nicole could feel the tablets taking effect, thanking the universe for chemical assistance. She dressed, finding Charlie in her small kitchen preparing breakfast. Nicole stood in the doorway, watching, one burning question on her mind. Had she, or hadn’t she?

Charlie smiled, returning to the task before her, sensing Nicole was still wondering how she ended up with her, in bed, naked. “You couldn’t find your hotel. You are so funny. So drunk. You shouted to find it. I had to stop you.”

“Is that why I’m here?”

“That, or a bench in the park. You drank a lot. Too much.”

“Thank you,” Nicole replied. “For taking me in. How did I? In bed.”

“Oh, that. I have only one bed. Plus, you’re very good looking.”

“Right. And, did anything…”

Charlies laughed. “Too much drink. And, you are Waverly’s.”

“Not for much longer, if she finds out. I’ve been fucking selfish. I’ve taken her for granted. You know she packs my bags for me. All my clothes neatly folded.”

“She is your girlfriend, no?” Charlie observed. “Perhaps, your problem is that.”

“Of course she’s my girlfriend. That’s not a problem.”

Charlie turned to face Nicole, her eyes studying her face. “But, she is your mother too. Takes care of you. She is older yes?”

“No, younger. Six years. I’ve gotta go. I need to talk to her. Thank you.”

“Stay for breakfast, please. You are my guest. I want to tell my friends I feed Nicole Haught.”

Dylan was waiting for Waverly in the hotel lobby, sitting at one of the computers. The pair made their way across the city, enjoying time out together, something they both had not considered doing before. Dylan had assumed Waverly and Nicole did their own thing, Waverly assuming Dylan liked playing computer games. He was fun to be with, quiet, thoughtful, observant, a refreshing change. He bought her a cuddly gorilla toy, with long arms that wrapped round her neck. She got him a keyring bottle opener with a photo of a sloth bear.

They strolled around the various animal houses, Dylan fascinated with the penguins, Waverly falling in love with the pandas, Dylan wondering whether he should buy her another stuffed toy. They finished at the aquarium, staring in wonder at sharks and giant turtles and tiny, tiny fish darting here and there. “This has been fun,” Dylan said, as they headed back to the hotel. “I might come again.”

“See, there’s more to life than computer games,” Waverly replied. “Nicole’s not replied to my text.”

“Did you mean it when you said you needed a break?”

“Not sure. This, today, what we’ve done has helped a lot. It may just be the living together that’s getting to me. Like I have no space to be me.”

“Right. So, you’re not leaving the band.”

Waverly shook her head. “No, I think you’ll have to put up with me for a little longer. And, maybe we do things like this more. If that’s okay with you.”

“I could teach you how to play games. It’s not that hard.”

“Okay, deal. You teach me to play a game, and I decide where we go.”

They shook hands, Dylan secretly wishing Waverly had broken up with Nicole.

Nicole phoned Troy. “Which hotel are we in?”

Troy laughed. “Where are you?”

“Don’t know. Can’t say. Have you seen Waverly?”

“She’s with Dylan. Seriously, where are you?”

She asked Charlie, who gave her a street name she couldn’t pronounce. “I’ll get a cab back.”

“Why didn’t you look at the schedule?” Troy asked. “All the details are on it.”

“Because, I let Waverly handle all that. I don’t like to know in advance where I’ll be playing.”

Nicole ended the call realising Charlie’s observation rang true. She was leaning on Waverly for emotional support, relying on her sensible nature and maturity to manage both their lives. She even picked up Nicole’s clothes, which she frequently left in a pile on the floor, folding them neatly, or putting them in the laundry bag. She couldn’t remember when she last did the laundry, or bought anything nice for Waverly. On top of a hangover, on top of having slept naked with a stranger, she now had to face the reality of having turned Waverly into her personal assistant. Everything hurt.

She wanted to reply to Waverly’s text, tell her how sorry she was, knowing that was the coward’s way out. She decided to wait for tell her face to face what had happened, what she planned to do, how she would change. The hours ticked by agonisingly slowly, the TV in her hotel room offering nothing of interest to watch, her life in limbo until she could speak with Waverly. By three in the afternoon, she could take it no longer, knocking on Waverly’s door, waiting to be let in. No reply. No message. No Waverly.

Troy was at the bar, sending messages, a small glass of beer waiting to be consumed. He offered to buy her one, she refusing, still feeling the effects of the night before. “Do you want to tell me where you were?” he asked. “Guessing it wasn’t here.”

“I’ve fucked up. Big, big time. I think I’ve blown it with Waverly.”

“She’ll come round. You probably just need a cooling off period.”

“I did something, something I’m ashamed of, and I think if, when Waverly finds out, that’ll be it.”

Troy took a long swig of his beer. “I’m guessing you weren’t alone last night.”

“I was drunk. Fucking absinthe. We didn’t do anything, but that’s not the point. I let Waverly down.”

“Chill. If you didn’t do anything, no harm done. If you tell Waverly she’ll think you did do something. If it was me, I’d keep quiet, let it go.”

“I can’t. It would be a lie. Why? Why, when I had it all do I go do something like this?”

“Probably, that’s why. You’re lucky you have Waverly with you. I, on the other hand, only have my hand for comfort.”

“Gross,” Nicole replied. “Really didn’t need that information.”

“It’s true. You get to have your girlfriend with you on tour. And, your girlfriend happens to be a total fox.”

“What do I do? Troy, tell me what do I do?”

“Act like nothing happened. That’s my advice. I know you won’t take it. You’ll go blurting out what happened to Waverly and she’ll freak out. It’ll crush her to think she’s with someone so stupid.”

“Thanks. I needed this. I’m not happy not telling her, but you’re right, if I do she’ll flip.”

Troy raised his glass. “Welcome to my world.”

Waverly and Dylan arrived at the hotel, arm in arm, Waverly with two stuffed animals, Dylan wearing a Berlin Zoo baseball cap. They looked blissfully happy in each other’s company, giggling about seeing two wild dogs having sex, Waverly failing to spot Nicole and Troy in the bar. Her laughter alerted Nicole to her presence, her heart pounding, the start of another headache approaching as she watched Waverly sail past with Dylan. She waited a few moments, before following, catching Waverly as she was about to enter the lift. “Hey, good day?” she asked, as she stood beside her in the lift.

“The best. Don’t know why I didn’t do this before. Dylan’s so much fun to be with. And, he bought me these.”

“They’re lovely. Very you.”

“Did you have a good sleep? I didn’t want to disturb you. I got your text.”

“So tired. Needed to catch up. Nice having a bed to myself.”

The words left her mouth before she had time to think through their meaning. Waverly hugged her gorilla, not responding, the lift door opening on her floor. “Catch you later,” she said, as she exited, leaving Nicole alone in the lift, gazing at her back as she walked away.

As the doors closed, Nicole knew she was in a whole new world of trouble. 

The guys decided they would make an evening of it on the town, take in the locals bars, get to enjoy Berlin. Nicole was reluctant as first, saying she needed to write a few more songs, Alex persuading her to come out. Waverly sat near Dylan most of the evening, occasionally looking over at Nicole, who tried not to appear jealous of the attention Dylan was getting, sipping her beer, not able to engage in conversation. All she wanted was to hold Waverly in her arms again, feel what they had before, not feel the cavernous distance now between them.

A hand touched her shoulder, Nicole turning to see who wanted an autograph, or a photo with her, not really in the mood. “Hey, stranger,” Charlie said, leaning in to kiss Nicole on the cheek. “How are you feeling? Not too drunk.”

Nicole’s eyes went to Waverly, who was staring at them, her face frozen. Nicole stood, ushering Charlie away, hoping to avoid a scene. She found a space near the bar, offering to buy Charlie a drink, Charlie placing her hands on Nicole’s hips. “Thanks, it’s okay. Hey, my friends would like to meet you. Would you come with me,” she said, taking Nicole’s hand, leading her to another booth. Several autographs signed, photos taken Nicole returned to her table, Waverly glaring at her. She smiled, a false smile, one Waverly saw through immediately. 

Her whole world was about to go up in flames and she was holding the lighter to start it. The long walk to the hotel was awkward, Waverly ignoring Nicole, the others unaware of the tension, except Dylan who could see Waverly was upset. As they entered the hotel, Nicole reached for Waverly’s hand, the action brushed away, Waverly marching towards the lifts. “Waverly, please I need to talk to you.”

She turned, eyes drilling into Nicole. “I think it’s a little late for that. See you tomorrow.”

The lift doors closed, Nicole left standing in the lobby, Dylan looking on from one of the computers. She entered her room, the empty bed, some of Waverly’s things still on display, her jewellery case, her books on the bedside table, her scent which would fill the room. Nicole sat on the bed, miserable, angry at herself for having destroyed what they had, knowing she couldn’t do what Troy said, keep Charlie a secret from Waverly. She had only just removed one skeleton from her closet, and here she was about to replace it with another. 

She stood outside Waverly’s door, her hand ready to knock, scared at what she was about to say, even more scared not to say it. “Waves, can we talk?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Waves, please. I have to tell you something. I fucked up.”

The door opened. “Who is she?”

“A friend,” Nicole replied, hoping they could continue the conversation in the bedroom. “I was drunk.”

“You didn’t. Tell me you didn’t.”

“I didn’t. I swear. Charlie put me up for the night. I couldn’t find the hotel.”

“Why didn’t you read the itinerary for the tour?” Waverly asked.

Nicole knew why. She let Waverly do that. “I don’t have it on my phone. Can I come in?”

Waverly stood to one side, allowing Nicole to enter, slamming the door. “I’ve had enough. I’m not your go to person. I clean up after you, I pack your bags, I keep track of where we are, I even sorted out your mother’s birthday gift.”

Nicole sat in one of the chairs. “I’ve messed up. I’ve stopped seeing you for you. That changes now.”

“It’s too late. I need space. Space from us. I don’t know who I am anymore. It just feels like I’m your shadow. And, I really didn’t appreciate having to get you off in that restroom. So degrading.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Kind of fun though.”

The look Waverly gave her told her she still wasn’t reading the room. “It used to be. It used to be fun. Now it feels like just another job I have to perform to be in the band. Your sex slave.”

“That’s not true. I agree, I’m utterly selfish, I’ve taken you for granted and I’ve let you carry us. Don’t end this. I need you. How will I find anything if you’re not there?”

“Stop it,” Waverly shouted. “I don’t want to end this either, but what choice do I have?”

“Waverly, I’m begging you. You are my life. I can’t do this without you. You know I can’t.”

“Perhaps, you need to try. Or, perhaps this Charlie woman can help you. She had her hands all over you.”

“We did nothing. Waverly, give me one more chance. I won’t fuck up again.”


	32. the Holiday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs a break from the mounting pressure...
> 
> Music mood: [Sarah Connor: Son Of Preacher Man](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KvkfyYoLjho)

Waverly shook her head. “I’m suffocating. Today was the first day I didn’t feel I had to worry about you. Do you know how good that felt? Whether you were resting enough, whether you had enough water before going on stage, whether you had matching socks. It felt good.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Nicole replied. “I’m a big girl. I can match my own socks. At least, I think I can match them. Those tricky little devils. Anyway, listen, you looked after Ward, you take care of people. That’s not what this is. Us. We’re more than that. We’re more than coordinated socks.”

“I need,” Waverly said, finding the edge of the bed, fingers dancing a tune on her knees. “I miss you, but I miss me too.”

Nicole knelt before her. “I miss you. Look how much trouble I get myself into when we’re not together. Waverly, I adore you. I think you’re the smartest, foxiest person I’ve ever met.”

“Foxiest. That’s not one of your words.”

“Troy’s. That’s what he called you.”

“Did he? Did he really? God, Nicole, everything’s too intense right now.”

“I know. And, I’ve not helped. Please, please, please don’t break up with me. I’ll die if you’re not in my life. Some hotel manager will find my rotting corpse in bed, with the remains of a half-eaten pizza beside me. Is that what you want? Cos’ that’s what you’ll get.”

Waverly giggled. “Stop. Don’t try to win me back with your appalling humour. You know it won’t work.”

“Hawaiian, with extra jalapenos.”

“You don’t like jalapenos,” Waverly observed.

“That’s how miserable I’ll be if you leave me. I’ll order the wrong pizza and be spiced to death.”

Waverly placed her arms round Nicole’s neck. “Can we do a reset? And, can I have my own room? And, can you please pack your own bags in future?”

“Yes, maybe, yes,” Nicole replied, earning a stern look from Waverly. “Fine. Yes, yes, yes. As long as I can visit.”

“It was kind of lonely without you last night. And, I’m still not happy you ended up with Charlie. Who calls themselves Charlie?”

“People named Charlie I guess. So, do you fancy some company tonight? I’m not doing anything. I could clear a space in my diary for, oh, say the rest of my life.”

“No thanks. I’ve Gloria and Patricia to keep me company.”

Nicole looked at her on-again girlfriend, wondering if she had morphed into a swinger in the space of twelve hours, realising Waverly meant her new cuddly toys which were now in her arms. Nicole smiled, taking the toys from Waverly. “Do you think the children could sleep in another room tonight?”

“I guess they could,” Waverly said, fluttering her eyes. “Do you need to get anything from your room?”

“Nope. I’ve everything I need right here.”

Make-up sex is always the best, neither wanting to leave the room, snuggled in each other’s arms, letting the morning drift by. Another concert that night, Nicole relaxed once more, knowing she had Waverly back, determined not to mess up this time. She was over-attentive in their dressing room, Troy standing behind her pretending to stick fingers down his throat, Alex laughing. Dylan sat quietly in the corner, tapping out a rhythm with his sticks, watching Waverly, assuming they wouldn’t get to go on another trip for some time.

Waverly came and sat by him. “I really enjoyed the zoo. Do you fancy coming with us to the lakes tomorrow before we leave?”

“No, it’s fine,” Dylan replied. “I’ve gotta catch up on my gaming.”

“Hey, what if just the two of us go. I liked being with you yesterday.”

Dylan continued tapping the table. “What about Nicole?”

“She only goes on these things because I drag her along. That’s what was so good at the zoo. You wanted to be there.”

“I did like the penguins. I’m thinking of adopting one.”

“We can’t have a penguin on tour with us.”

Dylan looked at her bemused. “Really. Why? Guns n Roses have one that tours with them.”

“Really? Stop it. I nearly fell for that. Do they really have a penguin?”

“Tigers.”

Waverly’s giggle caught Nicole’s attention, Dylan spying the curious look she was giving them. He returned to tapping the table, careful not to make it too obvious where his affections lay. 

Another successful concert over, the Mercedes-Benz Arena at full capacity, seventeen thousand screaming fans wanting Nicole. Charlie was in the audience with her friends, showing them the photo she had taken secretly of Nicole naked in her bed, hair ruffled, out cold. It would go no further than her phone, her girlfriend asking her to delete it, not happy Charlie had taken it, not happy Charlie was showing it to their group of friends, not happy Charlie was also naked in bed. She said nothing.

Waverly and Dylan made it to the lakes, Nicole using the morning to sleep. Dylan was quieter than their visit to the zoo, gazing across the lake from their tour boat, taking the occasional photo on his phone. “I’m back with Nicole,” she said, after a particularly long silence. “Do you ever get lonely?”

Dylan turned to study her face, his eyes meeting hers, moving a little closer. “Nicole’s lucky to have you. I don’t think she realises that.”

Waverly felt herself being pulled in, stopping before anything happened. “I’m…I’m with Nicole.”

Dylan moved away, equally too scared to seize the moment. “I know. I just wish you weren’t.”

Waverly reached for his hand. “I can be friends. My life is already too complicated without another complication. Please say we can be friends.”

Dylan gazed into her eyes. “We’re friends. We’ll always be friends.”

Nicole had managed to pack all her own bags by the time they returned. She even managed to match her socks by herself like a big girl. Nicole would have packed Waverly’s bags too, although knowing how fussy Waverly was about her things decided it best to let her do it, for fear of annoying her. Waverly desperately wanted to tell Nicole about Dylan, deciding it could wait. Everything was so fragile right now, she didn’t want this added to it. She didn’t have feelings for Dylan, she knew if she ever did break up with Nicole Dylan would not be her first port of call. 

Her mind was on other things, excited to be heading to Spain, Wynonna promising to meet them in Madrid, her flight scheduled to arrive shortly before theirs. Waverly had sent her details of their hotel, booking her sister a room, knowing there probably would be a spare room now she and Nicole were sleeping in the same bed again. Nicole was certainly more attentive, more responsive to her, awake to her, not caught up in her own dramas, giving Waverly more space.

It was the simple things Waverly missed most. A leisurely bath, on her own. A shower, on her own. Watching programmes on the TV she wanted to watch. Finding time to read the books she bought in airport shops. Simple, everyday things, where she could be herself without having to accommodate another. At nineteen, she was effectively married to Nicole without ever having established the ground rules, the give and take that comes when living with another. And, on top of it all, she had to perform in front of tens of thousands of screaming fans, the pressures alone from that weighing on her young shoulders. To have survived this far without going crazy, or resorting to drugs, or reckless behaviour, was credit to her, if only she knew it.

Wynonna waited at the airport to see her sister arrive. She stood in the main concourse of Madrid’s airport with a handmade sign which read:

Looking for my baby sister…

As soon as Waverly saw her she broke down, running to hug her, the first time in over two years. Nicole stood behind them, not wanting to interrupt, photographers everywhere snapping the moment. Waverly didn’t care. She had her sister, and that’s all that mattered.

Cars were waiting to take them to the hotel, the guys going on ahead, the girls travelling together, Nicole unable to get a word in as Waverly and Wynonna caught up. Nicole had to fend for herself when they reached the hotel, checking herself in, heading to the room alone, Waverly too pre-occupied with being with Wynonna. Nicole didn’t mind. She knew how much Waverly had been looking forward to seeing her sister, expect once again she was on her own, wondering what to do with herself.

She headed to the hotel’s pool, pounding out lap after lap, then the sauna, then the steam room, everything feeling dull. She had grown tired of hotel rooms, and hotel food, and hotel TV, and hotel pools, jacuzzis, saunas, steam rooms. First world problems, but also so terribly lonely, the life of a touring rock star not as great as she once imagined. Alone in her room she looked up houses for sale in Harmony, her eyes falling upon the details of the perfect house, calling her mother. 

Wynonna had already found the minibar, helping herself to its entire contents, lounging on the bed, listening to Waverly tell her about life on the road. “It’s amazing. We’ve sold out most venues. You have to see Nicole, she’s amazing. Everything we’re doing is amazing.”

Wynonna took a swig of her minibar cocktail. “So, you wanna tell me what’s eating you?”

Waverly grabbed the glass from Wynonna, finishing its contents. “I’m sleeping with Nicole.”

“Cool,” Wynonna replied, looking at the empty glass. “How’s that going?”

“Good. Really good. Different. Okay, we’ve had a few arguments. She doesn’t pick anything up, and expects me to organise everything. And, I think she may have, kind of slept with someone else.”

Wynonna sprang off the bed. “What the…Seriously, baby girl, no. No, sloppy seconds. What the…”

“No. I mean. We’ve sorted it out. Although, I was a little pissed.”

“Do you need me to big sister talk to her?” Wynonna offered, looking round the room for more booze, remembering her hip flask. 

“It’s fine. You’ll love the band. So, what’s your plans? Are you heading back to Harmony?”

“Fuck no,” Wynonna replied, taking a swig from her flask, handing it to her sister. “That place ain’t having this ass. I like what I have right now. How’s pa?”

“Same as when I left him,” Waverly replied. “Wasn’t too fussed me leaving. One more mouth to feed. Not contacted him since we went to New York. I wish momma would keep in contact. I’ve sent a few messages, but she hardly ever gets back to me.”

“She has her own problems, baby girl,” Wynonna replied, checking out the room service menu. “Do you think we could order a few things? I’m starving. And, thirsty.”

“Anything. Put it on our account. I’d better go find Nicole. She’ll be sulking in our room no doubt. Meet us in the bar at seven, for drinks and dinner.”

Waverly hugged her sister, heading to her room, hoping to get a few hours to herself. A knock on her door told her Nicole was on the prowl. She opened it, Dylan standing before her with another cuddly toy. “You said you liked giraffes.”

Waverly stared at the toy, finding it rather charming, wanting to take it, realising things were getting even more fucked up. “I do. Dylan, we…”

“Could you ever see yourself with me?” he asked, the honesty in his words drawing Waverly closer.

“This isn’t. Dylan, please. Don’t make me choose between you and Nicole. It will always be Nicole.”

Dylan moved nearer, his hands on her hips. “I really like you. Can we just try?”

Waverly pushed him off. “No. Dylan. Friends. Boundaries. I’m not…No.”

She slammed the door, falling on the bed, sobbing. 

Another knock on the door. “It’s me. Matching socks. Can I come in?”

Waverly opened the door, Nicole standing there in a dressing gown and different coloured socks. “Hey, baby what’s wrong. It’s just a joke. I can organise myself.”

Waverly fell back on the bed. “I’m too emotional right now. Things are just too…”

“Hey, hey. Is it Wynonna?”

Waverly shook her head. “It feels like a rollercoaster I can’t control anymore. I want out. I can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry, I thought I could, but I can’t.”

“Okay, okay. What’s happening? Tell me what’s upsetting you. Is it me?”

“Dylan.”

“Did he say something to you?”

Waverly shook her head. “I should have gone to Penn.”

“Waverly, tell me. What did Dylan say?”

Waverly sat up, looking at Nicole, in need of reassurance. “It’s hard enough without this. I just wanted a friend. I just wanted someone to talk to.”

“Did he do something?” Nicole demanded. “Waverly, what did Dylan do?”

“Nothing. He’s done nothing. I probably made him think I was interested. I’m not. Nicole, I’m not.”

“Did he touch you?”

“Nicole, please don’t overreact. It’s bad enough that he has feelings for me.”

Nicole’s hands found Waverly’s shoulders. “And, do you?”

“Of course I don’t. Why did I tell you?”

“Because you trust me,” Nicole replied, pulling her in, holding her tight. “I’ve been thinking. We need a vacation. I’ll tell Mercedes to give us a few days, perhaps go back with Wynonna, take it easy. We deserve a break. We can’t carry on like this.”

Waverly buried her head in Nicole’s shoulder. “I’d like that. I don’t think I can carry on for much longer.”

They had three more concerts to perform in Spain. After that, the band would be heading to New York where Matador wanted them to begin work on a second album. Nicole had enough songs written, Troy and Alex having started on the accompanying music. That was her leverage, Mercedes reluctant at first to let Nicole go wandering off with Waverly. When Nicole explained the pressures were getting to them, that Waverly was threatening to quit, she relented, having finally come to accept Nicole without Waverly by her side would not be a workable solution. 

She contacted Hex, asking if he could put the girls up for a few days, show them a good time. He was more than happy to oblige, having a thing for Nicole since their first meeting in New York. 

They all needed a break, Dylan apologising to Waverly in private, telling her he had been out of line, that they would be friends, much to her relief. She had had to stop Wynonna and Nicole from having a talk with him, Nicole giving him the cold shoulder until he apologised.

Their private plane touched down in Malaga one week later, Nicole still not able to get a word in with the sisters. Hex’s place was located on a hill overlooking Marbella and the Mediterranean. As their car pulled up, Nicole’s mouth fell open. “Oh fuck. Deja vu.”


	33. the Hex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nicole has a secret, two in fact, both she can't reveal to Waverly. But, she can to Wynonna...
> 
> Music mood: [The Pretenders: Private Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M8RrhRxtP9k)
> 
> (Aside: Chrissy Hynde, who fronts the Pretenders, has a meltdown at the start of this video, telling the crowd not to take her photo. Yep, rock chics hey. So fragile, but I think it shows how emotional performers can get, especially when performing.)
> 
> It's not her best performance of this song. So here's a better version, for anyone who's interested: [The Pretenders: Private Life](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nGom_iGpXVk)
> 
> And yes, I'm channelling Chrissy Hynde's voice and guitar playing into Nicole Haught...! 
> 
> .

Waverly was too busy talking with Wynonna to hear what Nicole said, exiting the car, only then taking in the scale of the property. “Wow. Nice. I could get used to a place like this.”

Wynonna was equally impressed. Her studio apartment in the less-than-fashionable part of town was nothing, a zero, compared to the house she was currently viewing. “So, this is how rock stars live. I like it. I like it a lot.”

Nicole remained silent, her mind looping on the huge door opening before them. _This is really fucking weird,_ she thought. _I must have seen it in a magazine, that’s it. Or maybe, this is what houses in Spain look like. Oh God, I wonder if it’s the same wall. Can’t be. Mind you, any wall in this place would be perfect. Which is not what I’ll tell Waverly. Not after the restroom incident. Okay, stay calm._

“You okay?” Waverly asked, spotting Nicole’s reaction to Hex’s place. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yep. Perfect. Nice place. Very homely. Think he has enough rooms for all of us?”

Wynonna grinned. “I see you’ve been taking comedy lessons. Very good, Haught. Two points for effort. I’m just hoping he has a well-stocked bar. I’m as dry as a dog’s…”

“Wyn! No. And, don’t go helping yourself of anything until you’re invited. It’s rude. We’re guests remember.”

Hex greeted them, pleased to have Wayhaught with him to show off to his friends, his eyes taking in Nicole’s long, slender body, his preference for redheads very much on display. Nicole was still taking in a place she once had an extremely vivid dreamt about. It wasn’t precisely the same, bigger she calculated in reality, the front door definitely larger than any in her dream, but close enough to give her chills. That dream, so long ago, a world away, except it wasn’t. It was here and she was living that dream, a rock chic jetting around the world, performing to adoring fans, all the breakfast buffet she could eat. 

Hex showed them to their rooms, Nicole looking on as he opened the door to Waverly’s bedroom explaining where everything was, telling her to let him know if she needed anything. Nicole went to enter, Hex beckoning her with his index finger to follow. “I have a special room for you. The best room, with the best views.”

“But, I’m with Waverly. We usually have one room.” Hex ignored her, walking off down the corridor to a door at the end, letting her see for herself. “Okay, this is pretty special. I’ll take it.”

“Drinks by the pool when you’ve settled in,” he said, gazing at the bed then Nicole’s body, her eyes catching his.

She waited a few moments before heading back to Waverly’s room. “Well this sucks. Hex has undressed me twice with his eyes. And, we’re in separate rooms.”

“He does seem to have a thing for you,” Waverly replied. “It’s a bit creepy. Have you seen the view?”

“He has. I feel like I need a shower. What you doing?”

“Wynonna and I are thinking of heading into town. She wants to show me where she works and her apartment. You can come with.”

“Please. If I stay here, I’m not sure what Hex has planned,” Nicole said, shuddering. “And, I wanted to relax.”

“We don’t have to stay here, if it makes you uncomfortable. We can find a hotel, I don’t mind.”

“It’s fine. Just protect me from horny Hex, please, please. Perhaps by taking all your clothes off and lying on that bed. That would help me get over it.”

“Would it? Anything else that might help you?”

Nicole whispered in her ear, earning a gasp. “What here? Seriously, you want to here?”

“Don’t freak out, but I’ve dreamt about this place. You, us, that blue bra of yours. As soon as I saw this place, it was like stepping into somewhere I’d been before. I can’t explain it. That’s way more creepy than Hex.”

“It’s weird. Which wall?”

Nicole’s eyes flashed. “Don’t know. A side wall. All the walls. Yes, all the walls. Definitely all the walls. We’ll need to try each one to see if it fits the dream. You can be Goldilocks, I’ll be the porridge.”

“We’ve got half an hour before I’m due to head out with Wynonna. How about we find out if these walls were in your dream.”

Nicole was already undressing. “I’m going to like staying at this house.”

The noises coming from Waverly’s room told Wynonna to give them a little more time to settle in, heading to the pool where Hex was on his phone, an open bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket, extra glasses ready for his guests. He offered her a glass, Wynonna accepting without hesitation, parking herself on a sun lounger opposite, raising her glass. “Here’s to sun, sea and Hex.”

Hex raised his glass. “Perhaps. Question. Do you think Nicole is attracted to me?”

Wynonna snorted into her drink. “Ah, well. No. You’re not her type. Plus, she and Waverly.”

“A pity. And, you?”

“I’ve only just met you. You’re a little too fast there fella, even for me. Back your horses up.”

“No. What I meant was, are you like Nicole?”

“Oh. Nope. More intelligent. Better looking. Not as famous, unfortunately. Still, two out of three ain’t bad.”

Hex laughed. “That is good. I like that in you. More champagne?”

Wynonna held out her empty glass. “And, I like a man who has chilled champagne waiting for me in a place like this.”

Two walls in, they both needed a break. “Is it me, or have we both become super horny?” Waverly asked, panting, her hair ruffled. 

“You’re dreaming,” Nicole replied. “Although, if I’d known sex against a wall in Spain would be this good I would have dreamt about it more often. Waverly Earp, I love you.”

“You’re just saying that because there’s more walls to explore.”

“No, no,” Nicole insisted. “We’ve been through a lot together these past few months. I’m so glad it was with you. You’ve made my world Miss Earp. This, all this, is because you believed in me, when I’d stopped believing in myself.”

“Stop. You’ll make me cry. To think we could still be in Harmony, you mending boats, me serving apple pie. Actually, me at Penn, you bringing me apple pie from Terra’s when you visit. I had it all planned out.”

“Sounds perfect. Still could happen. There’s time for you and Penn. I want you to get that degree. We’ve enough money to buy a place. Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that. I don’t know. I want to keep going with the band, but it’s harder than I ever imagined. I thought it would be fun, seeing the world, being with you every day. But, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Don’t think I’m throwing myself a pity party. I, for one, know we’ve been given something really special. Okay, this is going to sound mushy, but, you know what, I’m privileged to be part of your life.”

“And now I’m crying. I don’t deserve you in my life Waverly Earp. I promise never to treat you like my personal assistant ever again. Unless I need help with my socks.”

Wynonna knocked on their door. “Don’t want to hurry you guys, but if you don’t come out I may have to marry Hex.”

Waverly grabbed a robe from the bathroom. “Give me ten minutes. Is Hex coming onto you?”

“Now that I’ve told him Nicole digs chicks, he seems to think I’m on the menu. Not complaining. Chilled champagne by a pool with a view to die for. I’ve already sent loads of photos to my friends in town to show them where I’ll be living in future.”

The girls headed out to enjoy an afternoon of Wynonna bragging about her famous sister and the big house with a pool. They hired scooters, taking in the scenery, Nicole and Waverly more relaxed than they had been in months, not having to perform, not having to pack, unpack, get to venues, be nice to fans, have photos taken when they wanted to just be themselves. Waverly was right, as usual. The couple hadn’t really had a chance to find themselves, each defaulting to old patterns, Waverly to her mothering instincts, Nicole to living in her dreams and not facing reality. 

They stopped at a bar Wynonna knew along the seafront, a pretty waitress serving them, another friend of Wynonna’s. “So, you guys are heading back to New York. Have you spoken with Willa?” Wynonna asked, on her second beer. 

“Tried,” Waverly replied. “I have an address. She’s with someone, seemed happy the one time she answered my call. What is it with our family? No one bothers to keep in contact.”

“Blame Ward. He pushed everyone away.”

“He wouldn’t accept the money I offered.”

“Money. Did I hear money? Would you like me to keep it safe for him?”

“Do you need money?” Waverly asked. "I can send you some. How much do you need?”

“It’s fine. Although, a couple hundred euros would help. Are you sure?”

“Positive. Let me know your bank details. God, this beer’s going through me. Back in mo. How do you say restroom in Spanish?”

“Los aseos,” Wynonna replied. “The toilets.”

“Lost what?” Nicole smirked, watching Waverly as she danced round tables towards the sign. She waited for Waverly to disappear, leaning in towards Wynonna. “I have to tell you something, but you must keep it a secret.”

“Of course, pug face. As long as it’s not kinky.”

“You were pug face. I was something else. What was I?”

“You were pug face. I was toad mouth, Robin chipmunk. What was Laura? Wow, brain cells dying on me.”

“It’ll come back. Listen, I’ve found us a house in Harmony. It’s the one Waverly’s been dreaming of, and me. Can’t believe we’ve got it. My mother’s handled it all. I’m going to give it to Waverly.”

“Hold on. You bought her a house. Should you have consulted her?”

Nicole paused. “Fuck, you’re right. I’ve fucked up again. I’m so stupid. I just thought…”

“I’m sure she’ll like it. But, you know what she’s like. She’s all plan this, plan that, put throws over couches.”

“Hadn’t noticed. Mind you, we’ve spent the last few months in hotel rooms. I needed somewhere that’s not temporary, somewhere we can call ours. You’re right. Maybe I should have said something.”

“And my next question is, are you guys serious? Waverly mentioned you found someone else’s bed.”

“No. No, it’s not like that. Okay, it’s a bit like that. No, we didn’t do anything, I swear. Waverly was pissed at me for making her do...anyway, that’s not important. I drank Absinthe, woke up naked in bed next to a stranger. Not a day goes by I don’t regret what I did. I nearly blew it with Waves. That was the biggest wake-up call ever.”

“How do you know you didn’t do anything if you were drunk?” Wynonna countered. “Although, I’ve been there. Not on Absinthe. Must try it.”

“Nasty stuff. Charlie assured me nothing happened.”

“Fuck. I told Hex you’re only into girls. You’d better watch yourself.”

“I am. Charlie’s a girl.”

“Who calls themselves Charlie?”

“People named…so what do I do about the house?”

“And, you’re sure she wants to live in Harmony?”

“Fuck. Didn’t think that through either. I had it all planned. Rent a Lamborghini, drive from New York, park up in front of our new house.”

“That’s so sweet. If Waverly doesn’t want it, I could always keep it safe for you. Not that I ever want to set foot in Harmony again.”

Nicole was shaking her head. “There’s something else. And, this you must not tell her. I wanted to ask her if she’d spend the rest of her life with me. There’s a jetty with the house. I was going to take a boat out, tour the lake, park in a spot I know.”

Wynonna wiped away a tear. “She means that much to you.”

Nicole nodded. “I would have gone under if she hadn’t given up Penn, come with us. I wasted so much of my life, hiding because of what happened in the woods. She got me to see there’s more to life than mending boats. She’s the reason why Wayhaught is so successful. She says it’s me. It’s her. I get up on stage every night because she’s there with me.”

More tears were falling, Waverly shocked to see Wynonna crying. “Wyn, what’s wrong. You never…”

“It’s okay baby girl. Nicole told me I’m prettier than her. Just got a little emotional. Another beer anyone?”

Returning the scooters, the taxi swept up the drive to Hex’s house early evening, the girls in fine spirits. Hex had invited a few friends for a meal, the conversation light, everyone enjoying themselves, Wynonna looking over at her sister lovingly knowing what she knew, hoping Waverly wouldn’t freak out at being given a house by Nicole and a proposal. 

Hex invited his guests to his underground playroom, everyone marvelling at the floor to ceiling glass wall onto the pool outside. He began to teach Nicole how to spin discs, her ability to pick things up quickly, her sense of rhythm impressing him, letting her take over after only an hour’s tuition. By midnight, several guests were in the pool naked, more champagne flowing, Nicole taking the opportunity to explore the outside of the property with Waverly. 

“Was it this wall?” Waverly asked, a little drunk. “It’s private enough.”

Nicole looked around. “No. This sounds weird, but I think it was the next corner. Purple lights.”

“Purple rain,” Waverly sang, attempting to remember the lyrics, failing, giggling. “Any wall.”

Nicole carried on walking, stopping as they turned the corner. “Oh fuck. Here. Waverly here. Tell me you’re not wearing an electric blue bra.”

Waverly pulled down the strap of her dress. “Red. Do you want me to change?”

“God, no. My head would have burst if it had been blue. You okay doing it here?”

Waverly was already attempting to unzip herself. “I need help here.”

Nicole obliged, slowly releasing the fastener, letting Waverly’s dress fall to the floor, watching as she stepped out of it. Her hands went to Waverly’s briefs, tugging them down, standing back, the sight alone making her more aroused than she had ever been. “You are so beautiful. I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”

Waverly was tugging at Nicole’s shirt, easing each button loose, pushing it over her shoulders. “You are. You’re very lucky to have me, here against this wall. I’m so turned on right now. What’s next?”

Nicole grinned, kneeling, taking one of Waverly’s legs over her shoulder, looking up at her hopefully, soon-to-be wife. “This is where it gets real.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, we're back at Villa Cullinan...! Check out ALL those walls...(sniggers, walks away), lectures herself about finding her own jokes funny....[Villa Cullinan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8FzU2OMjYN8&t=628s)
> 
> And, the DJ element of Nicole's character is channelled from Miss Monique...! Fucking awesome: [Miss Monique](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dlxu28sQfkE)


	34. the Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decision time...
> 
> Music mood: [Fleetwood Mac: Dreams](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y3ywicffOj4)

Like a pair of giggling teenagers they managed to sneak into the house without being seen. Sex against an outside wall was beyond anything Nicole ever imagined, or Waverly, the couple more in love for having trusted. Everyone else was having too good a time to wonder where they were, even Wynonna was blissfully unaware her sister and potential sister-in-law had disappeared to indulge in the walls of Hex’s house. The couple lay in Nicole’s bed listening to the few remaining guests continuing to party by the pool, content in each other’s arms, not wanting anything more than that moment. 

Waverly was drifting off to sleep, happy to be in the same bed as Nicole, hoping she could take the feeling she had, right now, back with her when touring again. Stepping away from the craziness, even for a few days, allowed her to gain some perspective on her life. From a distance, touring didn’t seem so bad, except it was. It nearly cost them their relationship and her sanity. She could see how she had let everything build, let tensions overwhelm, let small problems become big, in her mind at least. Fame was fun, had its good moments, even some great moments, offered the potential for more money than she ever dreamed possible, yet left her empty, fawning fans and full bank accounts insufficient to nourish her heart and soul.

Nicole’s phone buzzed, a message from Mercedes to call her immediately. She ignored it, turning to kiss Waverly on the forehead, her arm pinned under her adorable girlfriend’s head. She couldn’t have been happier. Everything was perfect. She had everything, basking in the knowledge things could only get better once she had had a chance to show Waverly their new home, propose to her on the lake, suggest she take up her place at Penn.

Her phone rang again, letting it go to voicemail. It rang again, Nicole deciding to send a text to tell Mercedes it was late, to call in the morning. Mercedes replied telling her to answer the next call. “It’s two in the morning, can it wait?” Nicole whispered, Waverly groaning at the sound of Nicole’s voice, turning over.

“No, it can’t. How are you sweetie?”

“Is that all you’re ringing for? We’re both fine, goodnight.”

“I have some news. Are you sitting down?”

“Lying down, why? What’s so important you have to ring me in the middle of the night?”

“So, here’s the thing sweetie, Universal Music are interested.”

Nicole eased herself out of bed, standing naked by the window. “But, we’re with Matador.”

“I know. They want to buy out your contract. You’ve made it sweetie. I’m so proud of you.”

“Fuck. What do the others think?”

“I wanted you to be the first to know. We’ll need to meet with them when you come home.”

“And, what sort of money are we talking about?” Nicole asked, scared it might be too much, forcing her into accepting an offer simply through it being too good to turn down.

“Final figures are still being worked through, but we’re talking millions. I’ll make sure we get everything, and more from Universal. I’ll make sure my super special star gets all she deserves.”

“Thanks. Appreciated. I’ll let Waverly know.”

The call ended, Nicole sat on the edge of the bed, deep in thought. She had been contemplating stepping back from the band, ever since she upset Waverly in Berlin. She had seen enough, done enough, needed to not be Nicole Haught, recognisable rock chic anymore. She simply wanted to be Nicole, the boat mender, with the lawyer wife, living in a cosy house by a lake. Yet, here she was on the cusp of even more fame and even more money, and she was torn, genuinely torn between giving it all up and going all the way.

Waverly stirred, her hand reaching out for Nicole, finding her gone, opening one eye. “Hey, come back to bed, it’s late.”

“Waves, I have some crazy news.”

Waverly opened both eyes. “What is it? Babes, tell me.”

“Universal want us.”

Waverly sat up. “Oh fuck. That’s…that’s…good news right.”

Nicole glanced over. “I’m scared. We nearly didn’t make it with Matador. And now, we’re being asked to take on even more pressure.”

Waverly crawled down the bed, her arms finding Nicole’s waist. “It will be. But, I’ve been thinking, what if we get ourselves a little place, somewhere we can escape to when we need a break from all the craziness. I’ve been looking at houses near Harmony. Was hoping our dream home would be available, but someone beat me to it.”

Nicole turned her body, Waverly climbing onto her lap. “Ah, so here’s the thing. It might have been me.”

Waverly scanned Nicole’s face. “You haven’t. Oh my God, you got it. I love you, I love you, I love you. Seriously, you’ve got it?”

Nicole nodded, her hands on Waverly’s hips. “I should have checked with you first. But, as soon as I saw the details I knew I had to buy it.”

Waverly’s mouth fell open, unable to get any words out. All she could do was wrap her arms round Nicole’s neck, bury her head in Nicole’s shoulder, sob uncontrollably. 

“Okay, so I’m guessing you’re not mad at me for doing this in secret,” Nicole said, hugging her girlfriend. “I had it all planned. Drive you to the house, hand you the key, take a boat from the jetty out onto the lake, tell you what’s been on my mind for a while.”

“Can you tell me now?”

“Guess so. Now is the right time,” Nicole said, lifting Waverly up, waiting for her to place her feet on the ground, kneeling before her. “The one time I should have the perfect lyrics, I don’t know what to say.” Nicole took a deep breath. “Here goes. Waverly Earp, you mean the world to me, and…”

A loud knock on the door interrupted Nicole’s unprepared proposal. Hex was asking them to come quickly, something to do with Wynonna. Waverly grabbed her day clothes from a chair, dressing as fast as she could, rushing out, Nicole following, pulling on her tee and briefs. They found Wynonna out cold on a couch in Hex’s entertainment room, one of the guests trying to wake her. “She’s been like that for fifteen minutes,” he said. 

“She’s really hot,” Waverly observed, her hand on her sister’s forehead. “How much did she have to drink?”

“Not much,” Hex replied. “Mentioned something about allergies. Took some pills, then this.”

“I think we need to call an ambulance. She’s not well.”

“Of course. Leave it to me,” Hex said, already on his phone.

“Wyn…Wyn, can you hear me? It’s Waverly.” Wynonna groaned, her head lolling to one side. “Wyn, can you open your eyes?”

Nicole could see Wynonna was trying to as she peered over Waverly’s shoulder, worried for them both. Hex finished his call. “They’re on their way. They said to put her on her side, in case. I’m sorry. This is very unfortunate.”

The ambulance arrived within five minutes, Hex escorting two paramedics to where Wynonna was still lying on the couch, Waverly stroking her hair, talking to her. A quick assessment, they advised she would need to go with them to the hospital, returning with a stretcher, Waverly adamant she would travel with her sister in the ambulance. Hex offered to drive Nicole to the hospital, Nicole returning to their room, grabbing clothes, phones, wallets in a panic. Her phone buzzed again, another message from Mercedes, telling her to call.

“Really not a good time,” Nicole said, walking as fast as she could towards the entrance where Hex was waiting. 

“We have a problem,” Mercedes replied. “German press have a photo of you in bed with someone. And, it’s not Waverly.”

Nicole stopped, trying to process the information. “What? Where? Who? Seriously, what the fuck?”

“Supposedly, you forced yourself on this girl, and she’s suing you. It’s gone viral on social media.”

“What? I never. That’s a lie.”

“The lawyer from Universal wants this matter sorted out quickly, otherwise they’re pulling the negotiations.”

“But, there’s nothing to sort out. I never did what I’m being accused of. I got drunk, ended up in a stranger’s bed. Nothing happened. I wasn’t capable. I know in my heart I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Not to Waverly. Even if I was so drunk I couldn’t remember, I’d never do that. I’d never. That’s not me.”

“That’s not the point,” Mercedes snapped. “You were stupid enough, or drunk enough, to have your photo taken. What did I tell you? This is exactly what I warned you would happen. Whoever this girl is, whether what she says is true, or not, your future, the band’s future is on the line.”

“But, how can I fight a lie?”

“We get lawyers. We contest the story. We fight.”

Nicole reached Hex, her perfect world crumbling before her, following him to his car. She checked the time. Her mother would still be up, needing to speak to someone, wanting reassurance. “Hey, it’s Nicole.”

“Hey honey, I was going to call you. Listen, there’s a problem with the house. The owners are putting the purchase on hold as theirs has fallen through.”

Nicole heart sank, expecting nothing less. “Fine. How long?”

“They said six months. I’m sorry darling, I should have called sooner, but I knew you were relaxing. How’s the vacation going?”

“Wynonna’s on her way to the hospital, I’m being sued and I may have ruined our chances of signing with Universal because of something I didn’t do. So, yeah, best holiday ever.”

“Oh honey, that’s dreadful. What’s wrong with Wynonna?”

“No idea. Something about allergy pills and alcohol.”

“Can’t mix those. Nancy had a bad reaction once. Give her my love. How’s Waverly?”

“Good. I asked her to marry me?”

“What? And…”

“And. I don’t know. She hasn’t been able to give me an answer yet, because Wynonna’s little hospital outing interrupted us.”

“Oh honey, I’m sure Waverly will say yes. She’s a lovely girl. Ooh, I get to choose a wedding outfit. Are you planning on holding it in Harmony? I could find out how much the hotel is charging for events.”

“Hope so. Not so sure when she finds out about me being sued. This is all a bad dream right now. I just wish I could wake up from it, and everything’s…Sorry, love you. I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Love you too. I wish I was there with you. Stay strong. You’ll get through this.”

Nicole was about to put her phone back in her pocket when it rang again. “Seriously, what now?”

“Nicole, it’s me,” Waverly said. “Wynonna’s fine. She’s awake, puked everywhere. She’s really embarrassed. Where are you?”

“Hex’s car. We’re on our way.”

“It’s fine. Really. Why don’t you go back to the house. We’ll meet you there.”

“If you’re sure. No wait, I have your phone and money, and your sweatshirt. You’ll need them. Look, something’s happened, I need to tell you…FUCK…look out…”

Hex’s car swerved to avoid an oncoming truck whose headlights were still on high beam. His Aston Martin hit the barrier at full speed, sending it careering across the road, rolling down the side of the hill. When it finally came to a stop at the bottom both were unconscious, the driver of the truck phoning the emergency services immediately.

Waverly’s voice could be heard on the phone, screaming. “Nicole, what’s happened? Nicole, please. Are you there? Nicole, answer me.”

Nicole opened her eyes, trying to work out where she was, wondering why she was dangling upside down, staring at a large bush outside the car. 

“Ready to hit the road,” the voice said behind her. 

Nicole tried to turn her head, unable to see who was talking, deciding to close her eyes again. Just for a moment, just till the world stopped spinning. 

She felt a tap on her shoulder. “I don’t want to hurry you, but I’m on a bit of a tight schedule.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Nicole managed to say, opening one eye, wishing she hadn’t.

“Kevin,” the voice replied, a woman’s voice. “I’ve been assigned to accompany you.”

 _Who calls themselves Kevin,_ Nicole thought. _And, why does my head hurt so much. Fuck, where’s Waverly? I’ve got to get to Waverly._

The woman in the backseat of the car was talking again, Nicole wishing she would just fuck off. “Nicole Rayleigh Haught, musician, involved in a car accident in Spain. About to be signed by Universal, sued in Germany, left by her girlfriend. Leaves and becomes a rock legend at the age of twenty four if she chooses Path A. Stays, but loses everything if she chooses Path B. So, what’s it to be kid, I kind of need you to sign the contract, so we can get going.”

“Hold it, hold it. Lose everything. I lose Waverly.”

“Apparently,” Kevin replied, checking her notes. “She didn’t believe you about your less than discreet bed hopping incident with a person who goes by the name of Charlie. Decides to marry a drummer by the name of Dylan. Has three children.”

“This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.”

“I really don’t want to hurry you,” Kevin replied. “Delays cause so many problems with the paperwork, but we have a rather small window of opportunity here. Either you stay and fight for what you most want in this life, regardless of how it turns out, or you come with me. So, what’s it to be Nicole Rayleigh Haught? Do you choose Path A, or Path B.”

“Path B,” Nicole shouted. “I choose Path B. Path B. Path B.”

“Nicole, honey it’s me, momma.”

Nicole tried to open her eyes, the light too bright. Her hand moved towards her head, a bandage, a dull ache. Her lips were dry, her mouth opening, trying to tell whoever would listen she would fight, keep fighting for what she wanted most in this life. “B,” she whispered. “I choose B.”

“What honey? Do you want me to get Waverly?”

She felt hands on her face, a familiar voice, unable to open her eyes. “It’s me. Nicole, it’s me.”

Nicole tried opening her eyes again. “I’m sorry. Don’t leave me. I’m sorry. It’s not true. None of it’s true.”

“Oh God,” Waverly replied. “It’s all okay. Nicole, it’s all sorted. It’s all sorted. Wyn’s fine, Hex has a broken ankle, Charlie issued a statement saying it was her ex-girlfriend who made up the story, and Universal are desperate to sign us.”

“But, I lost you. You married Dylan and had kids. And, the house is gone. I messed everything up.”

Waverly broke down. “No, no, it’s all okay. Nicole, everything’s alright.”

“But, the house. I wanted you to have the house, because I love you.”

“Darling, I know you do. And, my answer is yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The darkside of fame: So easy to think those who are the darlings of international media are having a ball...[Downside to Fame](https://www.distractify.com/entertainment/2018/09/26/Z1MDtWb/dark-side-celebrity)


	35. the Healing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who the fuck is Kevin...
> 
> Music mood:[Nox Vahn feat. Mimi Page: Dream Of Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uskzpp3_xJc)

Bright lights in the room made it difficult for Nicole to see faces properly, that, and the dizziness she was experiencing, squinting, barely able to make out the contours of Waverly’s face. “I’ll keep fighting,” she whispered. “I’m not going with Kevin. Not yet.”

“Who’s Kevin,” Waverly asked. “We don’t know a Kevin.”

“B. I choose to B. I'm not losing you. I won’t. You’re all I have.”

“Nicole, it’s me. Waverly. You don’t have to fight. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. And, neither are you.”

“You can’t marry Dylan.”

“I won’t. I promise. I need you to get well, so I can marry you.”

“It’s probably the morphine,” Wynonna observed. “Making her high. Nicole, it’s me. How are you feeling?”

Nicole turned her head to where the new voice was coming, her head spinning. “Can you help me fly, I have a meeting. And, the cakes need mending.”

“Yep, she’s morphed out. Should try that stuff myself.”

Waverly scowled. “If you hadn’t taken those allergy pills on top of champagne.”

“I’ve said I’m sorry. I feel bad enough this happened. I know, I know, I should have read the instructions. I thought they were the same strength as my usual pills.”

“This isn’t your fault. It’s no one’s fault. Well, apart from that crazy truck driver who ran Hex off the road. They’re both lucky to be alive.”

“Can someone get me a spoon?” Nicole interrupted. “The boat’s leaking.”

Waverly smoothed her fiancée’s hair away from her face. “Just rest. I’ll stay now you’re awake.”

Nicole drifted off to sleep, no longer quite sure what was real. She definitely remembered talking to someone in the back of Hex’s car while hanging upside down, except she could have sworn it was a two-seater car she got into outside his house. She definitely remembered being told Waverly would marry Dylan and have three children, except here she was talking to Waverly being told they would be married. The line between the waking dream and the sleeping dream had blurred and she no longer could tell which was which. _And, why is my mother here?_ she thought. _She was in Scranton the last time I spoke to her. This is some weird shit. And, why can’t someone bring me a goddamn spoon?_

A nurse entered to check on her, Waverly explaining Nicole had woken briefly, the nurse nodding, her thick Spanish accent making it difficult for Waverly to understand everything she was being told. Nicole’s injuries were the more serious, taking most of the initial impact on her side of the car. She needed to be cut out, broken ribs, punctured lung, dislocated shoulder, plus suspected concussion. Hex had been luckier. A broken ankle and gash to his head all he sustained, thankful they both survived. The truck driver was arrested for dangerous driving, Hex’s car beyond repair, the truck driver’s company having to foot the hefty insurance bill for its replacement.

Nicole’s mother had flown over as soon as Waverly told her the news, staying with Hex, keeping Waverly company on their daily visits. She cried the first time seeing Nicole lying in the hospital bed, Waverly comforting her, the pair talking for hours, growing closer while their girl slept. Waverly told her how excited she was about buying the house in Harmony, Nicole’s mother explaining the position with the current owners, Waverly determined to get that house. She got Mercedes onto it, the purchase back on within an hour of her discussion. Mercedes was nothing if not good at her job.

All that was needed now was for Nicole to recover. She stirred, the ache in her side becoming uncomfortable, the frustration at not being given a spoon growing. She opened her eyes, seeing Waverly more clearly and her mother, taking a moment to process what was going on. She tried to sit up, a sharp pain making her gasp. Waverly was on it, raising the back of the bed, taking her hand. “Hey, take your time. No need to rush.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nicole said. “I messed it all up.”

“You didn’t,” Waverly replied. “Everything’s fine.”

“Why’s my mother here? You should be in Scranton.”

Nicole’s mother was standing behind Waverly. “Darling, as soon as I heard I came over. I wasn’t going to leave my baby in hospital.”

“Why am I in hospital? I’m supposed to be on stage in an hour.”

“The car crash,” Waverly explained. “You and Hex on your way here.”

“Right. Got it. Is Kevin okay?”

“Who the fuck is Kevin?” Waverly said. “We don’t know a Kevin.”

“Right. Are you sure?”

“Positive. There’s no Kevin.”

“I’m going to have a little rest now,” Nicole advised. “If Kevin calls can you tell her to bring a spoon.”

Waverly rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll tell her. Big, or little spoon.”

Nicole didn’t answer, her mind drifting off somewhere. 

It took a little over two weeks before she was well enough to leave the hospital, Mercedes renting them a house on the seafront, Nicole’s mother moving in with them, along with Wynonna. One big happy family, with the occasional argument or two. Nicole had forgotten about Kevin, but remained unnerved at the thought of Waverly marrying Dylan. It was an irrational thought, one not borne out by reality, but it was there at the back of her mind. Waverly could tell something was bothering Nicole, deciding to wait to have a discussion, knowing how much Nicole had been through, how much she herself could have lost if events of that night had been different.

A few times she had had to go for a walk on her own, sit in a bar with sunglasses on, let tears fall, knowing how lucky they had been. For all the bad, there was so much good that came as a result, finally finding each other in the midst of chaos, knowing they had each other in the midst of chaos, delicate seashells remaining when everything else slipped through their hands like grains of sand. 

It no longer mattered whether they were with Matador, or Universal, or whichever label wanted them. It no longer mattered someone in Germany, who in a fit of jealousy, published a photo her girlfriend took to seek revenge for their failed relationship. It no longer mattered whether they had a house in Harmony, or anywhere in the world. What mattered was their love for the other, tested to breaking point, made stronger through everything the world had chosen to throw at them.

Wynonna was on her way to work, spotting Waverly gazing out to sea, plonking herself beside her sister. “We really should stop meeting like this,” she said, ordering herself a small beer. “Do you want to tell me what’s eating you?”

Waverly wiped a few tears from under her glasses. “It took all this to make me realise how much I love her.”

“Cool. She loves you too. She was so excited when she told me about the house and her plans for you.”

“She told you?” Waverly asked, glancing over, tapping a sugar sachet on the table. “When?”

“She made me promise her not to say anything. But, I kinda think you need to know how much you mean to her. She’ll do anything for you.”

“I know that now. I seriously thought about cooling it in Berlin. It all got so messed up, too intense for both of us. It’s harder than you think this lifestyle. Looks great from the outside. But, it’s like being in a goldfish bowl, everyone staring in, tapping on the glass, expecting us to smile and wave for them.”

“Didn’t know goldfish could wave,” Wynonna said, sipping her beer.

“You know what I mean.”

“She wants you to take up your place at Penn.”

“I might. Although, with the Universal deal we’d be fools not to take it.”

“Will Nicole be well enough? I mean, she’s pretty beaten up right now.”

“I’ll make sure she has all the time she needs to mend. I’m not going back on stage until she’s well enough.”

“What if she doesn’t want to get back on stage?”

“Then we go to Plan B. Buy boats, live in Harmony, get fat on apple pie.”

“Sounds boring. Don’t you want a bit more excitement in your life?”

Waverly looked over the top of her glasses. “Trust me, after what we’ve been through, boring suits just fine. I want to wear a floral apron, bake my own pie, even though I hate baking, not have to think about which city I’ll be in next, or which hotel, or which venue we’ll be performing in.”

“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind about Universal, without Nicole’s input. You might have to be honest with her and tell her you don’t want to carry on.”

“I’ll do it for her. If she wants to, I will. If she doesn’t, I won’t.”

Wynonna shook her head. “Waverly, she’ll say the same. One of you will need to step up and make the decision for both of you. Otherwise, neither of you will be happy.”

“I just want to be with her.”

“Fine. That helps, but not if it means compromising yourself. Fuck, late for work. Gotta go.”

Waverly took a slow walk back to the house, Nicole’s mother preparing the evening meal, Nicole resting on a sun lounger in the shade, eyes closed, a book open on her legs. Her mind was racing again, flashbacks of the crash, of tumbling, of Waverly holding a small child in her arms, two older kids by her side, Dylan smirking, pointing to his ring finger. She jumped when Waverly gently touched her shoulder. “Fuck, sorry. How was your walk?”

“Good. Is it time for your pain medication?”

“A few hours. Not so bad today. Waves, what do we do about Universal?”

Waverly knelt by the lounger. “I don’t know. We don’t have to think about it for a while. You need to be well enough for any decision we make.”

“But, it’s playing on my mind. And, there’s something else.”

“If you say Kevin, I’ll scream.”

“Who’s Kevin?” Nicole asked, one eyebrow raised. No, it’s Dylan. I keep having this weird dream you’re married to him, and have kids, and it’s killing me. I know it’s weird, but it’s there. I can’t shake it.”

Waverly shuddered. “Is that what’s bothering you? How many kids?”

“Three. Weird right. But, I don’t think I can work with him again.”

“Right. Three, with Dylan. You know, we could have three. I’d quite like that. Three little Nicole’s running around, unmatched socks. And, now I’m horny again. Every time Haught. Every time I look into those gorgeous brown eyes of yours.”

“So, what do we do? I can’t just throw Dylan out of the band because of a crazy dream. That would be cruel.”

“But, you and I both know he overstepped our friendship.”

“I think that’s why it was him. I think it’s a sign, but I can’t work out what it means.”

“Perhaps it’s telling us we should get married sooner rather than later.”

“I never even got to propose properly,” Nicole pouted. “Your sister got in the way.”

“Okay. Then do it now,” Waverly said. “Or, I’ll do it.”

Nicole put the book on the ground, swinging her legs over the edge of the lounger, wincing, getting down on her knees. “Waverly Earp, will you be…”

“Forgot my sunglasses,” Wynonna interrupted, walking past. “Carry on. Don’t mind me.”

“Seriously. For fuck’s sake, she must have a proposal radar or something.”

Waverly giggled. “You were saying.”

“Third time. Waverly Earp, will you marry me?”

“Yes. And, will you Nicole Haught promise to match your socks? And, the socks of our kids.”

“Yes.”

The pair kissed, as Wynonna clapped. “Found my sunglasses. I’m going now. See, walking down the path. On my way to work. Remember she has broken ribs.”

They threw themselves a small party the next day, just the four of them, to celebrate being officially engaged, Wynonna getting a friend in one of the local restaurants to make them a special apple pie. It would take another month for Nicole to be well enough to travel, Waverly and Wynonna both crying at the airport, Wynonna promising to come back for the wedding.

Alex and Troy had been in regular contact while they were in Spain, both equally nervous about going big with Universal. Dylan remained silent, distancing himself from the band, finding a girlfriend who played computer games, in two minds whether to stay or go. Everyone wanted fame, except they didn’t, knowing what it now cost, knowing no amount of money compensates for going insane. 

The couple’s plane touched down in New York, a car waiting to take them and Nicole’s mother to Scranton where they would be staying for a few weeks. It wasn’t what they wanted, but knew Nicole still had months to go before she would be fully recovered, Waverly desperate to mother her, knowing they both needed to be taken care of. 

Mercedes arrived a few days later, looking more relaxed, telling them she was retiring from the music business, that she’d had a realisation after Nicole’s near-fatal car accident that life was too short to keep pounding away for more dollars. She needed more in her life, Rosita agreeing to go travelling with her, see how things developed. Doc was angry at first, gradually accepting if he couldn’t make Rosita happy better for her to be with someone who could. He would run the club in her absence, a certain barmaid helping ease his loneliness.

“I’ll stick around until the Universal contract is signed,” Mercedes said, sipping iced tea, her outfit more casual. “They really, really want you.”

Nicole glanced at Waverly. “We’re tempted. It’s just…what we’ve been through. I don’t know.”

“Sweetie, there are more ways to skin a cat. Have you thought about being a songwriter for others? Maybe you don’t need to be out there, front and centre, to get your music to the world.”

Nicole felt the weight she had been carrying fall away, her face relaxing. “But, Universal. Won’t they want us to tour?”

“They want you, sweetie. They have enough artists touring. Every meeting I’ve had with them, their main concern is whether you can still write the songs that got them to bite. That’s what they’re paying for. If you want to tour, fine, they’ll let you. But, what they really want is your music.”

Nicole couldn’t stop the emotions, Waverly rushing to hug her, knowing how much she had struggled with the thought of going back on tour, knowing she would have not to let everyone down. “Darling, we’ve done it. You’ve done it. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ll introduce you to the person who’ll manage you going forward,” Mercedes announced, taking another sip of iced tea. “Her name is Kevin. Oh, and I want an invite to your new home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take my inspiration for this story from philosopher Alan Watts: "No one imagines that a symphony is supposed to improve as it goes along, or that the whole object of playing is to reach the finale. The point of music is discovered in every moment of playing and listening to it. It is the same, I feel, with the greater part of our lives, and if we are unduly absorbed in improving them we may forget altogether to live them.”
> 
> If you get a chance, check out his work, its mindblowing: [The Dream Of Life: Alan Watts](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wU0PYcCsL6o)


	36. the Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy...
> 
> Music mood: [Nox Vahn: Come Together](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zPG_0m2RMxE&list=RDzPG_0m2RMxE&start_radio=1)
> 
> .

Nicole unlocked the door to the house. She hadn’t set foot inside for some years, dropping her bag on the floor, taking time to get the feel of a place holding so many memories. Waverly was struggling with two over-tired infants on the backseat, another on the way. “Seriously, Nicole,” she shouted from the driveway. “Need a little help here.”

Nicole turned, heading back to the car, extracting two small, chocolate-coated kids, getting it all over her tee shirt in the process. “Okay, so maybe giving them cookies wasn’t such a good idea,” she confessed, acknowledging Waverly was right again.

“I did say. But no, you had to sneak them some while I was using the restroom at our last stop.”

“Lesson learnt,” Nicole replied, more in love with her wife than ever before.

Their wedding had been a dream, taking over Lake Harmony Inn, guests from the music industry and family attending. Nicole’s mother and Frank, Ward and his partner, Waverly’s mother and her new husband, aunts, uncles, cousins, Willa, Wynonna, even Nicole’s father and his new family attending. It was magical, marquees erected by the edge of the lake, music and dancing into the early hours. 

Nicole sang to Waverly as part of the evening entertainment, not a dry eye afterwards, Waverly taking the mic to tell everyone how proud she was of her new wife. “Hey, everyone. Thank you for being here,” she began. “Nicole and I are the luckiest people alive, to have all this, and all of you. Nicole will be signing autographs shortly…”

The gathered guests laughed, Nicole taking the mic back from Waverly. “Correction, Nicole won’t be signing autographs. Can I just say, I am the lucky one. I nearly didn’t make it here, because I was asleep at the wheel. It took a certain, and Wynonna will back me up here, bossy Waverly Earp to get me to realise there’s more to mending boats in Harmony. Except, there isn’t. This is home, this is family and this is everything I’ve ever wanted in my life.”

“Hey, pug face,” Wynonna shouted from the crowd, “your wife is melting.”

Nicole turned to see Waverly crying, handing the mic to Alex, rushing to console Waverly. “Hey, I’m sorry. Too much?”

Waverly nodded. “Too much. I’m just so emotional right now.”

“So, I’m thinking,” Nicole said, taking Waverly’s hand, leading her outside down to the shoreline. “How about we take a little trip, go see a few places.”

“But, Universal want you to start writing in a month.”

“Digital nomads. I reckon we could go see the world before we have to get down to work.”

“But, we’ve only just got back on our feet. I need to plan…”

“Precisely. You need to plan where we’re going. So, where’s it to be? Australia, or Brazil first. Your pick.”

Waverly hugged Nicole. “Thank you. Thank you. Brazil. Is that okay? Do you want to go to Brazil?”

“I want to go where you want to go. Brazil it is.”

They met up with Mercedes and Rosita in Spain, the couple having set up a retreat centre in the Sierra Nevada mountains, near Granada, Nicole and Waverly spending a couple of weeks with them, helping out, Waverly getting into meditation, making a vow to return, hugging Mercedes and Rosita, departing for their next destination. Greece, to see Wynonna, staying with her for a month, Nicole working on her songs, Waverly helping out most evenings at the local restaurant where Wynonna worked. Few recognised her from her days in the band. If they did, even fewer approached for autographs, not quite sure why one member of Wayhaught would be working as a waitress in a small Greek town.

It was different for Nicole, her height and distinctive hair made her stand out, nervous women approaching, asking to have their photo taken, or simply to talk to her, ask her what she was doing. She would always smile for the camera, take time to talk to whoever was before her, tell them of their latest plans. Tell them they were enjoying life and all it had to offer, thankful to be alive.

Nicole’s injuries healed along the way, as did their hearts, both content to be with the other. They had glad days, and bad days, and sad days, and mad days, but in the end they were all days spent together, without the insanity of touring, without the pressure of having to be anyone other than themselves. When they returned from their extended honeymoon, they were tanned, toned, ready to take on the world on their own terms. Together. Wayhaught forever.

Kevin was every bit Mercedes, except she wasn’t. A different glint in her eye to Mercedes, knowing if she nurtured Nicole’s ability to write songs that spoke to people’s hearts, she could be riding on a bankable commodity for many years to come. And, so could Universal. 

Work started on renovating their home by the lake, Nicole adding a large music studio, Waverly wanting a proper office, somewhere she could look out over the lake while practising law. They based themselves in New York while work on the house was being carried out, an apartment close to the river, the need to be near water in their blood. Nicole never got to work with boats again, but that too remained in her blood, humble beginnings bleeding into her song lyrics, gaining her a reputation as the person to go to if you wanted your fans sobbing, emotional wrecks. 

She could also write uplifting songs, the list of her accomplishments growing year by year, as more artists turned to her to lift their careers higher. Those happy to get up on stage and sing Nicole’s songs to adoring fans. Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands hearing Nicole’s heart in every word sung. 

And, the discussion turned to starting their own family, Waverly liking the idea of three, Nicole content with one, relenting after the first arrived, a beautiful baby girl with long lashes and the deepest green eyes, and that was it, her heart going to this tiny bundle of moving arms and legs, and tiny toes, and tiny fingers, and the cutest nose ever. And, Nicole managed to match socks, and outfits, making sure her kid was the best dressed, showing her off to anyone who would look, or stop to ask for a photo. 

And, while Nicole looked after the baby Waverly studied, Columbia University replacing Penn, Nicole waiting for her wife outside with the baby if the weather was mild, or the small café nearby if not, baby strapped to her front gurgling away, Nicole busy writing songs, singing them quietly to Rayleigh, or feeding her baby rice. Waverly specialised in environmental law, their growing family heading to Washington where Waverly could use her passion and knowledge to make a difference. Baby Sophie arrived, Nicole juggling writing and two small children, occasionally socks were unmatched, Waverly never complaining, watching Nicole singing to them at night as they lay in their cots, tiny smiles on tiny angelic faces better than thousands of screaming fans.

Nicole would retire to the study to continue writing, or answer requests from artists, or talk with her mother about the kids. What they had done that day, what they were planning to do the next day, what outfits they would wear. Waverly’s mother also found her way back, visiting occasionally, sending gifts and clothing for the babies, Waverly sending her photos as they grew. Willa visited only once while they were in New York, the bond between sisters never growing. The last Waverly heard Willa had her own child, a little boy, sending Waverly a photo, no mention of meeting. 

And, then there was Wynonna. Back in the States after an extended period travelling, working for Doc at the club, baby Alice arriving, who looked just like her mother, Waverly sad she couldn’t be nearer to let their kids be together, knowing one day she would return to Harmony, return home.

Two messy kids deposited in the bath, Waverly watching over them, Nicole set about bringing in bags from the car, and buggies, and favourite toys, and comfort blankets, and discarded socks. Their renovated house was spacious, lighter, big enough for their family and their careers, Nicole realising for all the places they had seen while touring, all the places visited on honeymoon, this was where her heart remained, her sanctuary, her place of peace.

The kids tucked up in bed, fast asleep, Nicole cracked open a beer, resting her feet on the outside decking, strumming an old song on her acoustic guitar. Waverly joined her, a glass of juice in her hand, easing herself into a chair, massaging her growing belly. “Hey, I remember that one. Of All the Girls. One of my favourites. God, I haven’t heard that in ages. Wonder how many views now.”

Nicole put down the guitar, pulling out her phone. “Over four million. To think you forced me to make the video for it.”

“I didn’t force you,” Waverly corrected. “I merely suggested you might want to make a video and, you know, become a rock star.”

“Yep. Imagine if we hadn’t. I could still be out there mending boats, dreaming of being famous, wondering about you.”

Waverly shivered. “The boathouse. Do you remember me that day in the boathouse, our first wall sex. Makes me horny just thinking about it.”

Nicole looked over. “You’re always horny. Jake’s sister interrupting us, telling us about winning the competition. Ten thousand dollars. That was a lot of money.”

“It was,” Waverly said. “I thought I was the richest person in Harmony. Look at us now.”

“Don’t get me wrong, the money’s great, but you and the kids are worth more. Mind you, kids cost money. And no, we’re not buying them the play frame for the garden. They’ll play in the woods like we used to.”

Waverly pouted. “Please, I’ve chosen one already. It’s not too expensive. And, with Wynonna and Alice staying, they’ll need something to play on. Please, please.”

Nicole sighed. “Fine. But, that’s it. I don’t want them spoilt. I want them to appreciate what they have on their doorstep.”

“They will. Oh, and I may have looked into ski lessons for Rayleigh, when she’s a little older.”

“What if I put my foot down?”

“I know my darling,” Waverly replied, a glint in her eye. “You’re always right. And, I do listen to you. It’s just it would be great for her to learn, in her little ski outfit and helmet. I can see her now, racing to the bottom, beating all the other kids.”

“Would be fun watching her. Hey, I bet she’s a natural. She has great balance. Maybe a purple suit, with matching boots.”

Waverly smiled to herself, knowing all she had to do was push Nicole’s proud parent button. She returned to the house, leaving Nicole outside to enjoy the cool night air. Wynonna would be heading over from Scranton the following day, Waverly wanting to rest after their long car journey, hoping Alice would like her room. Doc would join them in a few days, having to remain behind to look after the club. Nicole’s mother was also coming over, to catch up with her grandchildren, spoil them rotten. The house would need a clean, food shopping, pies collected from Terra’s. So much to do.

Waverly was asleep by the time Nicole entered the bedroom. She had checked on the kids, made sure they were tucked up, comfort blankets nearby, and favourite toys. As soon as her head hit the pillow she felt herself drifting off, ignoring the sound of her phone ringing. It rang again, Nicole deciding to take it in case it woke Waverly. 

Heading to her study she answered, Kevin wanting to know how they were settling into the house, how the kids were doing. “Everything’s fine,” Nicole replied. “Thanks for stocking up the fridge for us. Completely forgot, even though Waverly gave me strict instructions to sort it out.”

“That’s what I’m here for. Make sure your life runs like a dream. So, we have a request from Madonna for her next album. Are you interested?”

“Wow, sure. How many songs?”

“Two. Although, I’m guessing if you do a good job on those she’ll want more. Look what happened on Rihanna’s album.”

“That was crazy. Although, the money was good.”

There was a pause. “So, okay, here’s the thing. If you had to choose one life over the other, which would it be?”

“Sorry, what?”

“You get to do it all again with Waverly, or you carry on in this life. Which is it to be?”

Nicole didn’t need a choice. “This life. Rayleigh and Sophie, baby three on the way and Waverly my wife, a top environmental lawyer. It will always be this life.”

“But, what if Path A brought you more money than you ever thought possible. And, the chance to woo Waverly, all over again.”

“I have my wealth. My family are all the wealth I'll ever need.”

“I’m glad you said that. Only, you’re about to be sued, you could lose everything. The house, your music studio. Just wanted to check you’re okay with that.”

“More than okay. As long as I have Waverly and the kids, we’ll be fine. I’ll set myself up again, start from scratch, even if no one wants to hear my music, I’ll play in a small band, make a living mending boats. That’s all I want. Fame was fun, but it’s not real, not sustainable. I know that now.”

She returned to the bedroom, still unsure whether she had actually just had that conversation with her manager, gazing down at her wife. “Who was that?” Waverly asked, turning over.

“Kevin. Wanted to know if we’re okay?”

“We are. Although, I hate to say this but I think the little one is on its way.”

Nicole held baby number three in her hands, the beautiful little boy, her other two curled up in chairs in the delivery room. His tiny toes, and tiny fingers, and the cutest nose too much, tears rolling down her cheeks. “You are the perfect song,” she whispered in his ear. “You, are everything I dreamed in my life. I’m going to take you and your sisters skiing. Don’t tell your mother. And, we’ll go sledging, and fishing on the lake. And, Rayleigh will teach you how to ride a bike.”

Waverly stirred, opening her eyes, holding her arms out for the baby. “He has your eyes. How are the girls?”

“Tired. I may have given them cookies.”

“Nicole! Did you bring the wipes? There’ll be chocolate up the walls. Honestly, I leave you in charge for five minutes.”

Nicole listened to Waverly berating her, wondering how she could feel this happy. Her life complete. All the problems, all the niggles, all the silly little aggravations of no consequence. 

She was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that's it. Hope it's been worth the ride for you. This is my first 90k story, yay. Might be my last, who knows. Took a lot out of me to get it down.
> 
> Little side story. My brother was at school with a guy (headmaster's son, I kid you not), who was only into music, everyone assuming he wouldn't amount to much. That he'd end up playing in some small local band, being a dropout. Except, he made it. He really did.
> 
> He started writing songs for other artists, eventually writing a number of songs for the Spice Girls. Made a fortune.
> 
> C'est la vie...
> 
> In love & light.
> 
> Alexa Play: [London Grammar - Baby It's You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlK9a-ccrLY)


End file.
